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GRASSHOPPER RAISED SUCH EDDIES AND WHIRLWINDS OF SAND THAT 
1 BEAR-KING CRIED OUT FOR MKlU'v" — Page 1*26 



THE 

INDIAN FAIRY 
BOOK 

FROM THE ORIGINAL LEGENDS 



WITH EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOR BY 

FLORENCE CHOATE 

AND 

ELIZABETH CURTIS 




NEW YORK 
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



. F~6 S 3 7 



Copyright, 1016, by 
Frederick A. Siokes Company 

All rights reserved 



AUG 17 1916 



FOEEWORD 

These Indian fairy tales are chosen from the many 
stories collected by Mr. Henry R. Schoolcraft, the first 
man to study how the Indians lived and to discover 
their legends. He lived among the Indians in the 
West and around the Great Lakes for thirty years in 
the first part of the Nineteenth Century and wrote 
many books about them. 

When the story-tellers sat at the lodge fires in the 
long evenings to tell of the manitoes and their magic, 
of how the little boy snared the sun, of the old Toad 
Woman who stole the baby, and the other tales that 
had been retold to generation after generation of red 
children, time out of mind, Mr. Schoolcraft listened 
and wrote the stories down, just as he heard them. 

In 1856 this collection of his stories was published 
by Mason Brothers in New York City. A small brown 
book with quaint engravings for pictures, it is now only 
to be found here and there in families that have always 
treasured its delightful contents. It is republished, 
with revisions and with new illustrations in color, so 
that these stories may be passed on as they deserve. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

I The Boy Who Set a Snare for the Sun . 1 

II Manabozho, the Mischief-Maker ... 7 

III The Red Swan - , 42 

IV The Celestial Sisters 72 

V Gray Eagle and His Five Brothers . .80 

VI He of the Little Shell 87 

VII Osseo, the Son of the Evening Star . . 95 

VIII The Wonderful Exploits of Grasshopper 104 

IX The Toad-Woman 136 

X The Origin of the Robin 143 

XI White Feather and the Six Giants . .147 

XII Sheem, the Forsaken Boy 159 

XIII Strong Desire and the Red Sorcerer . . 178 

XIV The Magic Packet j 189 

XV The Man with His Leg Tied Up ... 192 

XVI Leelinau, the Lost Daughter .... 200 

XVII The Winter Spirit and His Visitor . . . 209 

XVIII The Enchanted Moccasins 212 

XIX The Weendigoes and the Bone-Dwarf . 228 

XX The Fire-Plume 238 

XXI The Bird Lover 261 

XXII Bokwewa, the Humpback ..... 276 

XXIII The Little Boy-Man 285 

XXIV Wunzh, the Father of Indian Corn . . 295 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

"Grasshopper raised such eddies and whirlwinds of sand 

that the bear-king cried out for mercy" Frontispiece v 

FACING 
PAGE 

" 'Come, brothers, dance !'" . .22 

" 'She is mine,' cried Maidwa, but to his great surprise 

the Red Swan flew off toward the falling Sun" . 46 

"Striking a shining ball which uttered ravishing melo- 
dies" . 74 ' 

"And to this day the wicked old Toad-Woman is busy 

picking the berries" t . 142 

"Behold! Immense flocks of white and blue pigeons 

rushed from the smoke" 158 



a i 



a < 



Carry me on your backs to the magician's lodge' " . 166 
What aileth thee, sad bird?' she asked" . . . . 266 ^ 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

came home unsuccessful. Then his sister told him 
that he must not despair, but try again the next day. 

She accordingly left him again at the gathering- 
place of the wood and returned to the lodge. Toward 
nightfall she heard his little footsteps crackling through 
the snow, and he hurried in and threw down, with an 
air of triumph, one of the birds which he had killed. 

"My sister," said he, "I wish you to skin it and 
stretch the skin, and when I have killed more, I will 
have a coat made out of the skins. " 

"But what shall we do with the body?" said she; 
for they had always up to that time lived upon greens 
and berries. 

"Cut it in two," he answered, "and season our pot- 
tage with one half of it at a time. ' ' 

It was their first dish of game, and they relished it 
greatly. 

The boy kept on in his efforts, and in the course of 
time he killed ten birds — out of the skins of which 
his sister made him a little coat. Being very small, he 
had a very pretty coat, and a bird-skin to spare. 

"Sister," said he one day, as he paraded up and 
down before the lodge, enjoying his new coat and 
fancying himself the greatest little fellow in the 
world — as he was, for there was no other besides him — 
"My sister, are we really alone in the world, or are 
we playing at it? Is there nobody else living? And 
tell me, was all this great broad earth and this huge big 
sky made for a little boy and girl like you and me?" 



A SNARE FOR THE SUN 

"Ah, no," answered the sister, "there are many 
others, but not harmless as you and I are. They live in 
a certain other quarter of the earth, and if we would not 
endanger our lives we must keep away from there. 
They have killed off all our kinsfolk and will kill us, 
too, if we go near where they are." 

To this the boy was silent; but his sister's words 
only served to inflame his curiosity the more, and soon 
after he took his bow and arrows and went in the for- 
bidden direction. 

After walking a long time and meeting no one, he 
became tired and stretched himself upon a high green 
knoll where the day's warmth had melted off the snow. 
It was a charming place to lie, and he soon fell asleep. 
While he slept, the sun beat upon him. It not only 
singed his bird-skin coat, but so shrivelled and shrunk 
and tightened it on the little boy's body as to wake 
him up. And then when he felt how the sun had seared 
the coat he was so proud of, and saw the mischief its 
fiery beams had played, he flew into a great passion. 
He vowed fearful things, and berated the sun in a 
terrible way for a little boy no higher than a man's 
knee. 

"Do not think you are too high," said he; "I shall 
revenge myself. Oh, sun ! I will have you for a play- 
thing yet." 

On coming home he gave an account of his misfor- 
tune to his sister, and bitterly bewailed the spoiling 
of his new coat. He would not eat — not so much as 

3 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

a single berry. He lay down as one that fasts; nor 
did he move or change his manner of lying for ten 
full days, though his sister strove to prevail on him 
to rise. At the end of ten days he turned over, and 
then he lay full ten days on the other side. 

When he got up he was very pale, but very resolute 
too. He bade his sister make a snare. 

"For," said he, "I mean to catch the sun." 

"I have nothing strong to make a snare of," ob- 
jected the sister. But on his insisting, she brought 
forward a deer's sinew which their father had left, 
and soon made it into a string suitable for a noose. 
But the brother was not pleased with it; he told her 
that it would not do and directed her to find something 
else. She said she had nothing — nothing at all; but 
at last she thought of the bird-skin that was left over 
when the coat was made, and she wrought this into a 
string. And now the little boy was more vexed than 
before. 

' ' The sun has had enough of my bird-skins, ' ' he said ; 
"find something else." 

She went out of the lodge, saying to herself, "Was 
-there ever so obstinate a boy?" She did not dare to 
answer this time that she had nothing. Then lucidly 
she thought of her own beautiful hair, and pulling 
some of it from among her locks, she quickly braided 
it into a cord, and, returning, handed it to her brother. 
The moment his eye fell upon the jet black braid he 
was delighted. 

4 



A SNARE FOR THE SUN 

"This will do," he said, and he immediately began 
to run it back and forth through his hands as swiftly 
as he could; and as he drew it forth, he tried its 
strength. He said again, "This will do," and winding 
it in a glossy coil about his shoulders, he set out a 
little after midnight. 

His object was to catch the sun before it rose. He 
fixed his snare firmly on a spot just where the sun 
must strike the land as it rose above the earth; and 
sure enough, he caught the sun, so that it was held 
fast in the cord and did not rise. 

The animals who ruled the earth were immediately 
put into great commotion. They had no light; and 
they ran to and fro, calling out to one another and in- 
quiring what had happened. They summoned a coun- 
cil to debate upon the matter, and an old dormouse, 
suspecting where the trouble lay, proposed that some 
one should be appointed to go and cut the cord. This 
was a bold thing to undertake, as the rays of the sun 
could not fail to burn whoever should venture so near 
to them. 

At last the venerable dormouse himself undertook 
it, for the very good reason that no one else would. 
But all were glad to accept his offer, so he hastened to 
the spot where the sun lay ensnared. 

Now at this time the dormouse was the largest ani- 
mal in the world. When he stood up he looked like a 
mountain, and when he walked the earth trembled. 
His courage was great in proportion, but as he came 

5 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

nearer and nearer to the sun his back began to smoke 
and burn with the heat, and soon the whole top of his 
huge bulk was turned to enormous heaps of ashes. 
He succeeded, however, in cutting the cord with his 
teeth, and the sun, free, as round and beautiful as ever, 
rolled up again into the wide blue sky. But the dor- 
mouse — or blind woman as it is called — was shrunk 
away to a very small size ; and that is the reason why 
it is now one of the tiniest creatures upon the earth. 

The little boy returned home when he discovered 
that the sun had escaped his snare, and devoted him- 
self entirely to hunting. 

"If the beautiful hair of my sister would not hold 
the sun fast, nothing in the world could," he said. "I 
was not born, a little fellow like myself, to look after 
the sun. It requires one greater and wiser than I 
to regulate that." 

So he went out and shot ten more snow-birds; for 
in this business he was very expert; and he had a 
new bird-skin coat made, which was prettier than the 
one he had worn before. 




n 

MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

THEEE was never in the whole world a more mis- 
chievous busy-body than that notorious giant 
Manabozho. He was everywhere, in season and out 
of season, running about and putting his hand in what- 
ever was going forward. To carry on his game, he 
could take almost any shape he pleased; he could be 
very foolish or very wise ; very weak or very strong ; 
very poor or very rich — just as happened to suit his 
humor best. Whatever any one else could do, he 
would attempt without a moment's reflection. He was 
a match for any man he met, and there were few mani- 
toes that could get the better of him. By turns he 
would be very kind, or very cruel ; an animal or a bird ; 
a man or a spirit. And yet, in spite of all these gifts, 
Manabozho was always getting himself involved in all 
sorts of troubles ; and more than once, in the course of 
his busy adventures, was this great maker of mischief 
driven to his wits' ends to come of! with his life. 

To begin at the beginning, Manabozho, while yet 
a youngster, was living with his grandmother near 
the edge of a wide prairie. It was on this prairie that 
7 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

lie first saw animals and birds of every kind ; he also 
there made first acquaintance with thunder and light- 
ning; he would sit by the hour watching the clouds 
as they rolled, and musing on the shades of light and 
darkness as the day rose and fell. 

For a stripling, Manabozho was uncommonly wide- 
awake. Every new sight he beheld in the heavens was 
a subject of remark ; every new animal or bird, an ob- 
ject of deep interest ; and every sound that came from 
the bosom of nature was like a new lesson which he 
was expected to learn. He often trembled at what he 
heard and saw. 

To the scene of the wide open prairie his grand- 
mother sent him at an early age to watch. The first 
sound he heard was that of the owl, at which he was 
greatly terrified. Quickly descending the tree he had 
climbed, he ran with alarm to the lodge. 

"Noko! noko! grandmother!" he cried. "I have 
heard a monedo." 

She laughed at his fears and asked him what kind 
of noise his reverence made. He answered: 

"It makes a noise like this: Ko-ko-ko-ho." 

His grandmother told him he was young and fool- 
ish ; that what he heard was only a bird which derived 
its name from the peculiar noise it made. 

He returned to the prairie and continued his watch. 
As he stood there looking at the clouds, he thought 
thus to himself: 

"It is singular that I am so simple and my grand- 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKEK 

mother so wise; and that I have neither father nor 
mother. I have never heard a word about them. I 
must ask and find out." 

He went home and sat down, silent and dejected. 
Finding that this did not attract the notice of his 
grandmother, he began a loud lamentation, which he 
kept increasing, louder and louder, till it shook the 
lodge and nearly deafened the old grandmother. She 
at length said : 

"Manabozho, what is the matter with you? You are 
making a great deal of noise. ' ' 

Manabozho started off again with his doleful hub- 
bub; but succeeded in jerking out between his big sobs, 
"I haven't got any father or mother; I haven't," and 
he set out again lamenting more boisterously than ever. 

Knowing that he was of a wicked and revengeful 
temper, his grandmother dreaded to tell him the story 
of his parentage ; as she knew he would make trouble 
of it. 

Manabozho renewed his cries and managed to throw 
out, for a third or fourth time, his sorrowful lament 
that he was a poor unfortunate, who had no parents 
and no relations. Finally his grandmother said : 

"Yes, you have a father and three brothers living. 
Your mother is dead. She was taken for a wife by 
your father, the West, without the consent of her 
parents. Your brothers are the North, East, and 
South ; and being older than yourself, your father has 
given them great power with the winds, according to 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

their names. You are the youngest of his children. 
I have nursed you from your infancy ; for your mother, 
owing to the ill-treatment of your father, died when 
you were born. I have no relations beside you. Your 
mother was my only child, and you are my only hope." 

"I am glad my father is living," said Manabozho. 
"I shall set out in the morning to visit him." 

His grandmother would have discouraged him, say- 
ing it was a long distance to the place where his father, 
Ningabiun, or the West, lived. 

This information seemed rather to please than to 
disconcert Manabozho ; for by this time he had grown 
to such a size and strength that he had been compelled 
to leave the narrow shelter of his grandmother's lodge 
and to live out of doors. He was so tall that, as he 
stood up, he could have snapped off the heads of the 
birds roosting in the topmost branches of the highest 
trees, without being at the trouble to climb. And if 
he had at any time taken a fancy to one of the same 
trees for a walking-stick, he would have had no more to 
do than to pluck it up with his thumb and finger and 
strip down the leaves and twigs with the palm of his 
hand. 

Bidding good-bye to his venerable old grandmother, 
who pulled a very long face over his departure, Mana- 
bozho set out at great headway, for he was able to 
stride from one side of a prairie to the other at a sin- 
gle step. 

He found his father on a high mountain-ground, far 
10 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

in the west. His father espied his approach at a great 
distance and bounded down the mountain-side several 
miles to give him welcome; and, side-by-side, appar- 
ently delighted with each other, they reached in two 
or three of their giant paces the lodge of the West, 
which stood high up near the clouds. 

They spent some days in talking with each other — 
for these two great persons did nothing on a small 
scale, and a whole day to deliver a single sentence was 
quite an ordinary affair, such was the immensity of 
their discourse. 

One evening Manabozho asked his father what he 
was most afraid of on earth. 

He replied — ''Nothing." 

"But is there nothing you dread, here — nothing that 
would hurt you if you took too much of it? Come, 
tell me." 

Manabozho was very urgent, and at last his father 
said: 

"Yes, there is a black stone to be found a couple 
of hundred miles from here, over that way," pointing 
as he spoke. "It is the only thing earthly that I am 
afraid of, for if it should happen to hit me on any 
part of my body it would hurt me very much. ' ' 

The West made this important circumstance known 
to Manabozho in the strictest confidence. 

"Now you will not tell any one, Manabozho, that the 
black stone is bad medicine for your father, will you?" 
he added. "You are a good son, and I know you will 
.11 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

keep it to yourself. Now tell me, my darling boy, is 
there not something that you don't like'" 

Manabozho answered promptly — * ' Nothing. ' ' 

His father, who was of a very steady and persever- 
ing temper, put the same question to him seventeen 
times, and each time Manabozho made the same an- 
swer — ' ' Nothing. ' ' 

But the West insisted — "There must be something 
you are afraid of." 

"Well, I will tell you," said Manabozho, "what it 
is." 

He made an effort to speak, but it seemed to be too 
much for him. 

"Out with it," said Ningabiun, or the West, fetch- 
ing Manabozho such a blow on the back as shook the 
mountain with its echo. 

"Je-ee, je-ee — it is — " said Manabozho, apparently 
in great pain. "Yeo, yeo! I cannot name it, I trem- 
ble so." 

The West told him to banish his fears and to speak 
up ; no one would hurt him. 

Manabozho began again, and he would have gone 
over the same make-believe of anguish, had not his 
father, whose strength he knew was more than a match 
for his own, threatened to pitch him into a river about 
five miles off. At last he cried out : 

"Father, since you will know, it is the root of the 
bulrush. ' ' 

He who could with perfect ease spin a sentence a 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

whole day long, seemed to be exhausted by the effort 
of pronouncing that one word, "bulrush." 

Some time after, Manabozho observed: 

"I will get some of the black rock, merely to see how 
it looks." 

"Well," said the father, "I will also get a little of 
the bulrush-root, to learn how it tastes." 

They were both double-dealing with each other, and 
in their hearts getting ready for some desperate work. 

They had no sooner separated for the evening than 
Manabozho was striding off the couple of hundred 
miles necessary to bring him to the place where the 
black rock was to be procured, while down the other 
side of the mountain hurried Ningabiun. 

At the break of day they each appeared at the great 
level on the mountain-top, Manabozho with twenty 
loads, at least, of the black stone, on one side, and on 
the other the West, with a whole meadow of bulrush 
in his arms. 

Manabozho was the first to strike — hurling a great 
piece of the black rock, which struck the West directly 
between the eyes. The West returned the favor with 
a blow of bulrush that rung over the shoulders of 
Manabozho, far and wide, like the whip-thong of the 
lightning among the clouds. 

And now both rallied, and Manabozho poured in a 
tempest of black rock, while Ningabiun discharged a 
shower of bulrush. Blow upon blow, thwack upon 
thwack — they fought hand to hand until black rock and 

13 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

bulrush wore all gone. Then they betook themselves 
to hurling crags at each other, cudgeling with huge oak- 
trees, and defying each other from one mountain-top 
to another. At times they shot enormous boulders 
of granite across at each other's heads, as though they 
had been mere jack-stones. The battle, which had 
commenced on the mountains, had extended far west. 
The West was forced to give ground. Manabozho 
pressing on, drove him across rivers and mountains, 
ridges and lakes, till at last he got him to the very brink 
of the world. 

"Hold!" cried the West. "My son, you know my 
power, and although I allow that I am now fairly 
out of breath, it is impossible to kill me. Stop where 
you are, and I will also portion you out with as much 
power as your brothers. The four quarters of the 
globe are already occupied, but you can go and do a 
great deal of good to the people of the earth. They 
are beset with serpents, beasts and monsters, who 
make great havoc of human life. Go and do good, and 
if you put forth half the strength you have to-day, you 
will acquire a name that will last forever. When you 
have finished your work I will have a place provided 
for you. You will then go and sit with your brother, 
Kabinocca, in the North." 

Manabozho gave his lather his hand upon this agree- 
ment. And parting from him, he returned to his own 
grounds, where he lay for some time sore of his wounds. 

These being, however, greatly allayed and soon after 
14 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

cured by his grandmother's skill in medicines, Mana- 
bozho, as big and sturdy as ever, was ripe for new 
adventures. He set his thoughts immediately upon a 
war excursion against the Pearl Feather, a wicked 
old manito, who had killed his grandfather. Pearl 
Feather lived on the other side of the great lake, but 
that was nothing to Manabozho. He began his prep- 
arations by making huge bows and arrows without 
number; but he had no heads for his shafts. At last 
Noko told him that an old man, whom she knew, could 
furnish him with such as he needed. He sent her to 
get some. She soon returned with her wrapper full. 
Manabozho told her that he had not enough and sent 
her again. She came back with as many more. He 
thought to himself, "I must find out the way of mak- 
ing these heads." 

Instead of directly asking how it was done, he pre- 
ferred — it was just like Manabozho — to deceive his 
grandmother and come at the knowledge he desired by 
a trick. 

"Noko," said he, "while I take my drum and rattle, 
and sing my war-songs, do you go and try to get me 
some larger heads, for these you have brought me are 
all of the same size. Go and see whether the old man 
is not willing to make some a little larger." 

As she went he followed at a distance, having left 
his drum at the lodge, with a great bird tied at the top, 
whose fluttering should keep up the drum-beat the 
same as if he were tarrying at home. He saw the old 

15 



THE IXDIAX FAIRY BOOK 

workman busy and learned how lie prepared the heads ; 
he also beheld the old man's daughter, who was very 
beautiful. Manabozho now discovered for the first 
time that he had a heart of his own, and the sigh he 
heaved passed through the arrow-maker's lodge like 
a gale of wind. 

'.'How it blows!" said the old man. 

"It must be from the south," said the daughter; 
"for it is very fragrant." 

Manabozho slipped away, and in two strides he was 
at home, shouting forth his songs as though he had 
never left the lodge. He had just time to free the bird 
which had been beating the drum, when his grand- 
mother came in and delivered to him the big arrow- 
heads. 

In the evening the grandmother said, "My son, you 
ought to fast before you go to war, as your brothers 
do, to find out whether you will be successful or not." 

He said he had no objection; and privately stored 
away, in a shady place in the forest two or three dozen 
juicy bears, a moose, and twenty strings of the tender- 
est birds. The place of his fast had been chosen by 
Noko, and she had told him it must be so far as to be 
beyond the sound of her voice or it would be unlucky. 
So Manabozho would retire from the lodge so far as 
to be entirely out of view of his grandmother, fall to 
and enjoy himself heartily, and at nightfall, having 
just despatched a dozen birds and half a bear or so, 
he would return tottering and woc-begone, as if quite 

1G 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

famished, so as to move deeply the sympathies of his 
wise old granddame. 

But after a time Manabozho, who was always spying 
out mischief, said to himself, "I must find out why 
my grandmother is so anxious to have me fast at this 
spot.'' 

The next day he went but a short distance. She 
cried out, "A little farther off"; but he came nearer 
to the lodge, the rogue that he was, and cried out in 
a low, counterfeited voice, to make it appear that he 
was going away instead of approaching. He had now 
got so near that he could see all that passed in the 
lodge. 

He had not been long in ambush when an old magi- 
cian crept into the lodge. This old magician had very 
long hair, which hung across his shoulders and down 
his back like a bush or foot-mat. Noko welcomed him 
kindly and they commenced talking earnestly. In do- 
ing so, they put their two old heads so very close to- 
gether that Manabozho was satisfied they were kissing 
each other. He was indignant that any one should 
take such a liberty with his venerable grandmother, 
and to mark his sense of the outrage, he touched the 
bushy hair of the old magician with a live coal which 
he had blown upon. The old magician felt the flame ; 
he jumped out into the air, making his hair burn only 
the fiercer, and ran, blazing like a fire-ball, across the 
prairie. 

Manabozho who had, meanwhile, stolen off to his 

17 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

fasting-place, cried out in a heart-broken tone and as 
if on the very point of starvation, "Noko! Noko! is 
it time for me to come home?" 

"Yes," she cried. And when he came in she asked 
him, "Did you see anything?" 

"Nothing," he answered, with an air of childish 
candor; looking as much like a big simpleton as he 
could. The grandmother looked at him very closely 
and said no more. 

Manabozho finished his term of fasting, in the course 
of which he slyly despatched twenty fat bears, six dozen 
birds, and two fine moose. Then he sang his war- 
song and embarked in his canoe, fully prepared for 
war. Besides weapons of battle, he had stowed in a 
large supply of oil. 

He traveled rapidly night and day, for he had only 
to will or speak, and the canoe went. At length he 
arrived at a place guarded by many fiery serpents. 
He paused to view them, observing that they were 
some distance apart, and that the flames which they 
constantly belched forth reached across the pass. He 
gave them a good morning and began talking with 
them in a very friendly way ; but they answered : 

"We know you, Manabozho; you cannot pass." 

He was not, however, to be put off so easily. Turn- 
ing his canoe as if about to go back, he suddenly cried 
out with a loud and terrified voice : 

"What is that behind you?" 

The serpents, thrown off their guard, instantly 

18 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

turned their heads, and he glided past them in a mo- 
ment. 

"Well," said he quietly, after he had got by, "how 
do you like my movement 1 ' * 

He then took up his bow and arrows, and with de- 
liberate aim shot every one of them, easily, for the 
serpents were fixed to one spot and could not even 
turn around. They were of an enormous length, and 
a bright color. 

Having thus escaped the sentinel serpents, Mana- 
bozho pushed on in his canoe until he came to a part 
of the lake called Pitch-water, as whatever touched 
it was sure to stick fast. But Manabozho was pre- 
pared with his oil, and rubbing his canoe freely from 
end to end, he slipped through with ease, the first per- 
son who had ever succeeded in passing through the 
Pitch-water. 

' ' There is nothing like a little oil to help one through 
pitch-water," said Manabozho to himself. 

Now in view of land, he could see the lodge of Pearl 
Feather, the Shining Manito, high upon a distant hill. 

Putting his clubs and arrows in order, Manabozho 
began his attack, yelling and shouting, beating his 
drum, and calling out in triple voices : 

"Surround him! surround him! run up! run up!" 
making it appear that he had many followers. He ad- 
vanced, shouting aloud: 

"It was you that killed my grandfather," and shot 
off a whole forest of arrows. 

19 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

The Pearl Feather appeared on the height, blazing 
like the sun, and paid back the discharges of Mana- 
bozho with a tempest of bolts, which rattled like the 
hail. 

All day long the fight was kept up, and Manabozho 
had fired all of his arrows but three, without effect; 
for the Shining Manito was clothed in pure wampum. 
It was only by immense leaps to right and left that 
Manabozho could save his head from the sturdy blows 
which fell about him on every side, like pine-trees, 
from the hands of the Manito. He was badly bruisec 
and at his very wits' end, when a large woodpeckei 
flew past and lit on a tree. It was a bird he had known 
on the prairie, near his grandmother's lodge. 

"Manabozho," called out the woodpecker, "youi 
enemy has a weak point; shoot at the lock of hair on 
the crown of his head. ' ' 

He shot his first arrow and only drew blood in 
few drops. The Manito made one or two unsteady 
steps, then recovered himself. He began to parley, 
but Manabozho, knowing that he had discovered a way 
to reach him, was in no humor to trifle, and let slip 
another arrow, which brought the Shining Manito to 
his knees. And now, having the crown of his head 
within good range, Manabozho sent in his third arrow, 
which laid the Manito out upon the ground, stark 
dead. 

Manabozho lifted up a huge war-cry, beat his drum, 
and took the scalp of the Manito as his trophy. Then 

20 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

calling the woodpecker to come and receive a reward 
for the timely hint he had given him, he rubbed the 
blood of the Shining Manito on the woodpecker's head, 
the feathers of which are red to this day. Full of his 
victory, Manabozho returned home, beating his war- 
drum furiously and shouting aloud his songs of tri- 
umph. His grandmother was on the shore ready to 
welcome him with the war-dance, which she performed 
with wonderful skill for one so far advanced in years. 

The heart of Manabozho swelled within him. He 
was fairly on fire and an unconquerable desire for fur- 
ther adventures seized upon him. He had destroyed 
the powerful Pearl Feather, killed his serpents, and 
escaped all his wiles and charms. He had prevailed 
in a great land fight, his next trophy should be from 
the water. 

He tried his prowess as a fisherman, and with such 
success that he captured a fish monstrous in size and 
so rich in fat that with the oil Manabozho was able to 
form a small lake. To this, being generously disposed 
and having a cunning purpose of his own to answer, 
he invited all the birds and beasts of his acquaintance ; 
and he made the order in which they partook of the 
banquet the measure of their fatness for all time to 
come. As fast as they arrived he told them to plunge 
in and help themselves. 

The first to make his appearance was the bear, who 
took a long and steady draught; then came the deer, 
the opossum, and such others of the family as are noted 

21 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

for their comfortable case. The moose and bison were 
slack in their cups, and the partridge, always lean in 
flesh, looked on till the supply was nearly gone. There 
was not a drop left by the time the hare and the mar- 
tin appeared on the shore of the lake, and they are, 
in consequence, the slenderest of all creatures. 

"When this ceremony was over, Manabozho suggested 
to his friends, the assembled birds and animals, that 
the occasion was proper for a little merry-making; and 
taking up his drum, he cried out : 

"New songs from the South! Come, brothers, 
dance!" 

In order to make the sport more mirthful, he di- 
rected that they should shut their eyes and pass 
around him in a circle. Again he beat his drum and 
cried out: 

"New songs from the South! Come, brothers, 
dance!" 

They all fell in and commenced their rounds. When- 
ever Manabozho, as he stood in the circle, saw pass by 
him a fat fowl which he fancied, he adroitly wrung 
its neck and slipped it in his girdle, at the same time 
beating his drum and singing at the top of his lungs 
to drown the noise of the fluttering. And he all the 
time called out in tones of admiration : 

"That's the way, my brothers; that's the way!" 

At last a small duck, of the diver family, thinking 
there was something wrong, opened one eye and saw 
what Manabozho was doing. 
22 




# " 'COME, BROTHERS, DANCE !' " Page 22 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

"Ha-ha-a ! Manabozho is killing us !" he cried, giv- 
ing a spring and making for the water. 

Manabozho, quite vexed that the creature should 
have played the spy upon his house-keeping, followed 
him; and just as the duck was diving into the water, 
he gave him a kick, which is the reason that the diver's 
tail-feathers are few, his back flattened, and his legs 
straightened out, so that when he gets on land he makes 
a poor figure in walking. 

Meantime, the other birds, having no ambition to 
be thrust in Manabozho 's girdle, flew off, and the ani- 
mals scampered into the woods. 

Manabozho, stretching himself at ease in the shade 
along the side of the prairie, thought what he should 
do next. He concluded that he would travel and see 
new countries ; and having once made up his mind, such 
was his length of limb and the immensity of his stride, 
that in less than three days he had walked over the 
entire continent and looked into every lodge by the way 
— and with such nicety of observation that he was able 
to inform his good old grandmother what each family 
had for a dinner at a given hour. 

By way of relief to these grand doings, Manabozho 
was disposed to vary his experiences by bestowing a 
little time upon the sports of the woods. He had 
heard reported great feats in hunting, and he had a 
desire to try his power in that way. Besides that, it 
was a slight consideration that he had devoured all 
the game within reach of the lodge. And so, one even- 

23 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

ing, while walking along the shore of the great lake, 
weary and hungry, he was quite delighted to encounter 
a great magician in the form of an old wolf, with six 
young ones. 

The wolf no sooner caught sight of him than he told 
his whelps, who were close about his side, to keep out 
of the way of Manabozho. "For I know," he said, 
"that it is that mischievous fellow whom we see yon- 
der." 

The young wolves were in the act of running off, 
when Manabozho cried out: 

1 * My grandchildren, where are you going ? Stop and 
I will go with you. I wish to have a little chat with 
your excellent father." 

Saying which he advanced and greeted the old wolf, 
expressing himself pleased at seeing him looking so 
well. 

"Whither do you journey?" he asked. 

"We are looking for a good hunting-ground to pass 
the winter," the old wolf answered. "What brings 
you here?" 

"I was looking for you," said Manabozho. "For 
I have a passion for the chase, brother. I always ad- 
mired your family; are you willing to change me into 
a wolf?" 

The wolf gave him a favorable answer, and he was 
forthwith changed into a wolf. 

"Well, that will do," said Manabozho; then looking 
at his tail, he added, "Oh! could you oblige me by 

24 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

making my tail just a little longer and more bushy, 
please?" 

"Certainly," said the old wolf; and he gave Mana- 
bozho such a length and spread of tail that it was 
constantly getting between his legs, and it was so 
heavy that it was as much as he could do to find 
strength to carry it. But having asked for it, he was 
ashamed to say a word; and they all started off in 
company, dashing up a ravine. 

After getting into the woods for some distance, they 
fell in with the tracks of moose. The young ones 
scampered off in pursuit, the old wolf and Manabozho 
following at their leisure. 

"Well," said the old wolf, by way of opening dis- 
course, "who do you think is the fastest of the boys? 
Can you tell by the jumps they take?" 

"Why," Manabozho replied, "that one that takes 
such long jumps, he is the fastest, to be sure ! ' ' 

"Ha! ha! you are mistaken," said the old wolf. 
"He makes a good start, but he will be the first to 
tire out; this one, who appears to be behind, will be 
the one to kill the game. ' ' 

By this time they had come to the spot where the 
boys had started in chase. One had dropped what 
seemed to be a small medicine-sack, which he carried 
for the use of the hunting-party. 

"Take that, Manabozho," said the old wolf. 

"Esa," he replied, "what will I do with a dirty dog- 
skin?" 

25 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

The old wolf took it up ; it was a beautiful robe. 

"Oh, I will carry it now," cried Manabozho. 

"Oh, no," said the old wolf, who had exerted his 
magical powers, " it is a robe of pearls. Come along ! ' ' 

And away sped the old wolf at a great rate of 
speed. 

"Not so fast," called Manabozho after him; and 
then he added to himself as he panted after, "Oh, this 
tail!" 

Coming to a place where the moose had lain down, 
they saw that the young wolves had made a fresh start 
after their prey. 

"Why," said the old wolf, "this moose is poor. I 
know by the tracks; in that way I can always tell 
whether they are fat or not." 

A little farther on, one of the young wolves, in dash- 
ing at the moose, had broken a tooth on a tree. 

"Manabozho," said the old wolf, "one of your 
grandchildren has shot at the game. Take his arrow ; 
there it is." 

"No," replied Manabozho; "what will I do with a 
dirty dog's tooth?" 

The old wolf took it up, and behold it was a beau- 
tiful silver arrow. 

When they at last overtook them, they found that 
the youngsters had killed a very fat moose. Mana- 
bozho was exceedingly hungry; but the old wolf just 
then again exerted his magical powers, and Manabozho 
saw nothing but the bones picked quite clean. He 

26 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

thought to himself, "Just as I expected! Dirty, 
greedy fellows ! If it had not been for this log at my 
back, I should have been in time to have got a mouth- 
ful"; and he cursed the bushy tail which he carried, 
to the bottom of his heart. He, however, sat down 
without saying a word. 

jit length the old wolf spoke to one of the young 
ones, saying: 

"Give some meat to your grandfather." 

One of them obeyed, and coming near to Manabozho, 
he presented him the other end of his own bushy tail, 
which was nicely seasoned with burrs gathered in the 
course of the hunt. 

Manabozho jumped up and called out: 

"You dog, now that your stomach is full, do you 
think I am going to eat you to get at my dinner? 
Get you gone into some other place." 

Saying which, Manabozho, in his anger, walked off 
by himself. 

"Come back, brother," cried the wolf. "You are 
losing your eyes." 

Manabozho turned back. 

"You do the child injustice. Look there!" and be- 
hold, a heap of fresh, ruddy meat was lying on the 
spot, already prepared. 

Manabozho, at the view of so much good provision, 
put on a smiling face. 

"Amazement!" he said; "how fine the meat is!" 

"Yes," replied the old wolf, "it is always so with 

27 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

us; we know our work and always get the best. It 
is not a long tail that makes the hunter. ' ' 

Manabozho bit his lip. 

They now fixed their winter quarters. The young- 
sters went out in search of game, and they soon 
brought in a large supply. One day, during the ab- 
sence of the young hunters, the old wolf amused him- 
self in cracking the large bones of a moose. 

"Manabozho," said he, "cover your head with the 
robe, and do not look at me while I am busy with these 
bones, for a piece may fly in your eye." 

Manabozho did as he was bid; but looking through 
a rent in the robe, he saw what the other was about. 
Just at that moment a piece flew off and hit him on 
the eye. He cried out: 

"Tyau, why do you strike me, you old dog?" 

The wolf answered — "You must have been looking 
at me." 

"No, no," retorted Manabozho, "why should I want 
to look at you?" 

"Manabozho," said the old wolf, "you must have 
been looking or you would not have got hurt." 

"No, no," he replied again, "I was not." But he 
thought to himself, "I will repay the saucy wolf this 
mischief." 

So the next day, taking up a bone to obtain the mar- 
row, he said to the wolf : 

"Brother, cover your head and do not look at me, 
for I very much fear a piece may fly in your eye." 

28 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

The wolf did so; and Manabozho, taking the large 
leg-bone of the moose, first looking to see if the wolf 
was well covered, hit him a blow with all his might. 
The wolf jumped up, cried out, and fell prostrate from 
the effects of the blow. 

"Why," said he, when he came to a little and was 
able to sit np, "why did you strike me so?" 

"Strike you?" said Manabozho, with well-feigned 
surprise. "No; you must have been looking at me." 

"No," answered the wolf, "I say I have not." 

But Manabozho insisted, and as the old wolf was 
no great master of tricky argument, he was obliged 
to give it up. 

Shortly after this the old wolf suggested to Mana- 
bozho that he should go out and try his luck in hunt- 
ing by himself. 

When he chose to put his mind upon it Manabozho 
was quite expert, and this time he succeeded in killing 
a fine fat moose, which he thought he would take aside 
slyly and devour alone, having prepared to tell the 
old wolf a pretty story on his return, to account for 
his failure to bring anything with him. 

He was very hungry, and he sat down to eat; but 
as he never could go to work in a straightforward 
way, he immediately fell into great doubts as to the 
proper point at which to begin. 

"Well," said he, "I do not know where to com- 
mence. At the head? No. People will laugh, and 
say — 'He ate him backward.' " 

29 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

He went to the side. "No," said he, "they will say 
I ate him sideways." 

He then went to the hind-quarter. "No, that will 
not do, either; they will say I ate him forward. I 
will begin here, say what they will. ' ' 

He took a delicate piece from the small of the back 
and was jnst on the point of putting it to his mouth, 
when a tree close by made a creaking noise. He 
seemed vexed at the sound. He raised the morsel to 
his mouth the second time, when the tree creaked 
again. 

"Why," he exclaimed, "I cannot eat when I hear 
such a noise. Stop, stop!" he said to the tree. He 
put the meat down, exclaiming — "I cannot eat with 
such a noise ' ' ; and starting away he climbed the tree, 
and was pulling at the limb which had offended him, 
when his fore-paw was caught between the branches 
so that he could not free himself. 

While thus held fast, he saw a pack of wolves ad- 
vancing through the wood in the direction of his meat. 
He suspected them to be the old wolf and his cubs, 
but night was coming on and he could not make them 
out. 

"Go the other way, go the other way!" he cried 
out; "what would you come to get here?" 

The wolves stopped for a while and talked among 
themselves, and said: 

"Manabozho must have something there, or ho would 
not tell us to go another way. ' ' 

30 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

"I begin to know him," said the old wolf, "and all 
his tricks. Let us go forward and see." 

They came on, and finding the moose, they soon made 
away with it. Manabozho looked wistfully on to see 
them eat till they were fully satisfied, when they scam- 
pered off in high spirits. 

A heavy blast of wind opened the branches and re- 
leased Manabozho, who found that the wolves had left 
nothing but the bare bones. He made for home, where, 
when he related his mishap, the old wolf took him by 
the fore-paw and condoled with him deeply on his ill- 
luck. A tear even started to his eye as he said: 

"My brother, this should teach us not to meddle 
with points of ceremony when we have good meat to 
eat." 

On a bright morning in the early spring, the winter 
having by this time drawn fairly to a close, the old 
wolf addressed Manabozho: 

"My brother, I am obliged to leave you; and al- 
though I have sometimes been merry at your expense, 
I will show that I care for your comfort. I shall leave 
one of the boys behind me to be your hunter and to 
keep you company through the long summer after- 
noons." 

The old wolf galloped off with his five young ones ; 
and as they disappeared from view, Manabozho was 
disenchanted in a moment and returned to his mortal 



Although he had been sometimes vexed and im- 

31 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

posed upon, he had, altogether, passed a pleasant win- 
ter with the cunning old wolf, and now that he was 
gone, Manabozho was downcast and low in spirit. But 
as the days grew brighter he recovered by degrees his 
air of cheerful confidence and was ready to try his 
hand upon any new adventure that might occur to 
him. The old spirit of mischief was still alive within 
him. 

The young wolf who had been left with him was a 
good hunter and never failed to keep the lodge well 
supplied with meat. One day Manabozho addressed 
him as follows : 

"My grandson, I had a dream last night, and it does 
not portend good. It is of the large lake which lies 
in that direction. You must be careful always to go 
across it, whether the ice seem strong or not. Never 
go around it, for there are enemies on the further 
shore who lie in wait for you. The ice is always safe. ' ' 

Now Manabozho knew well that the ice was thin- 
ning every day under the warm sun, but he could not 
stay himself from playing a trick upon the young 
wolf. 

In the evening when he came to the lake, after a 
long day's travel in quest of game, the young wolf, 
confiding to his grandfather, said, "Hwooh! the ice 
does look thin, but Nesho says it is sound"; and he 
trotted upon the glassy plain. 

He had not got half way across when the ice snapped, 
and with a mournful cry, the young wolf fell in and 

32 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

was immediately seized by the water-serpents. They 
knew that it was Manabozho 's grandson and were 
thirsting for revenge upon him for the death of their 
relations in the war upon Pearl Feather. 

Manabozho heard the young wolf's cry as he sat in 
his lodge ; he knew what had happened ; and from that 
moment he was deprived of the greater part of his 
magical power. 

He returned scarcely more than an ordinary mortal 
to his former place of dwelling, whence his grandmother 
had departed no one knew whither. He married the 
arrow-maker's daughter, and became the father of sev- 
eral children, and very poor. He was scarcely able to 
procure the means of living. His lodge was pitched in 
a remote part of the country where he could get no 
game. It was winter, and he had not the common com- 
forts of life. 

He said to his wife one day : 

"I will go out a-walking and see if I can not find some 
lodges." 

After walking some time he saw a lodge at a distance. 
The children were playing at the door. When they saw 
him approaching they ran in and told their parents that 
Manabozho was coming. 

It was the residence of the large red-headed wood- 
pecker. He came to the door and asked Manabozho 
to enter. This invitation was promptly accepted. 

After some time, the woodpecker, who was a magi- 
cian, said to his wife : 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

"Have you nothing to give Manabozho? He must 
be hungry. ' ' 

She answered, "No." 

"He ought not to go without his supper," said the 
woodpecker. "I will see what I can do." 

In the center of the lodge stood a large tamarack 
tree. Upon this the woodpecker flew, and commenced 
going up, turning his head on each side of the tree and 
every now and then driving in his bill. At last he 
pulled something out of the tree and threw it down; 
when, behold ! a fine fat raccoon lay on the ground. He 
drew out six or seven more. He then descended and 
told his wife to prepare them. 

"Manabozho," he said, "this is the only thing we 
eat; what else can we give you?" 

"It is very good," replied Manabozho. 

They smoked their pipes and conversed with each 
other. 

After eating, Manabozho got ready to go home. 
Then the woodpecker said to his wife, "Give him the 
other raccoons to take home for his children. ' ' 

In the act of leaving the lodge, Manabozho, on pur- 
pose, dropped one of his mittens, which was soon after 
observed upon the ground. 

"Bun," said the woodpecker to his eldest son, "and 
give it to him ; but mind that you do not give it into his 
hand ; throw it at him, for there is no knowing him, he 
acts so curiously." 

The boy did as he was directed. 

34 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

" Grandfather," said he to Manabozho, as he came up 
to him, "you have left one of your mittens. Here 
it is." 

"Yes," he said, affecting to be ignorant of the cir- 
cumstance, "it is so; but don't throw it, you will soil 
it on the snow." 

The lad, however, threw it, and was about to return, 
when Manabozho cried out : 

"Bakah! Bakah! stop— stop! Is that all you eat? 
Do you eat nothing else with your raccoon ? Tell me!" 

"Yes, that is all," answered the young Woodpecker; 
"we have nothing else." 

"Tell your father," continued Manabozho, "to come 
and visit me, and let him bring a sack. I will give him 
what he shall eat with his raccoon-meat. ' ' 

When the young one returned and reported this 
message to his father, the old woodpecker turned up 
his nose at the invitation. 

"I wonder," he said, "what he thinks he has got, 
poor fellow ! ' ' 

He was bound, however, to answer the proffer of hos- 
pitality, so he went accordingly to pay a visit to Mana- 
bozho, taking along a cedar-sack. 

Manabozho received the old red-headed woodpecker 
with great ceremony. He had stood at the door await- 
ing his arrival, and as soon as he came in sight Mana- 
bozho commenced, while he was yet far off, bowing and 
opening wide his arms in token of welcome ; all of which 
the woodpecker returned in due form by ducking his 

35 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

bill and hopping to right and left upon the ground, ox- 
tending his wings to their full length and fluttering 
them back to his breast. 

When the woodpecker at last reached the lodge, 
Manabozho made various remarks upon the weather, 
the appearance of the country, and especially on the 
scarcity of game. 

"But we," he added, "we always have enough. 
Come in, and you shall not go away hungry, my noble 
bird!" 

Manabozho had always prided himself on being able 
to give as good as he had received ; and to be up with 
the woodpecker, he had shifted his lodge so as to in- 
close a large dry tamarack tree. 

"What can I give you?" said he to the woodpecker. 
"But as we eat so shall you eat." 

With this Manabozho hopped forward, and jumping 
on the tamarack tree, attempted to climb it just as he 
had seen the woodpecker do in his own lodge. He 
turned his head first on one side, then on the other, in 
the manner of the bird, meanwhile striving to go up, 
and as often slipping clown. Ever and anon he would 
strike the tree with his nose, as if it had been a bill, and 
draw back, but he pulled out no raccoons; and he 
clashed his nose so often against the trunk that at last 
the blood began to flow, and he tumbled down senseless 
upon the ground. 

The woodpecker started up with his drum and rattle 

36 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

and by beating thera violently he succeeded in bringing 
him to. 

As soon as lie came to bis senses, Manabozbo began 
to lay the blame of his failure upon his wife, saying to 
his guest : 

"Nemesho, it is this woman-relation of yours — she 
is the cause of my not succeeding. She has made me 
a worthless fellow. Before I took her I also could get 
raccoons." 

The woodpecker said nothing, but flying on the tree, 
drew out several fine raccoons. 

"Here," said he, "this is the way we do!" and left 
in disdain, carrying his bill high in the air and step- 
ping over the door-sill as if it were not worthy to be 
touched by his toes. 

After this visit, Manabozho was sitting in the lodge 
one day with his head down. He heard the wind whis- 
tling around it, and thought that by attentively listen- 
ing he could hear the voice of some one speaking to him. 
It seemed to say to him : 

"Great chief, why are you sorrowful? Am not I 
your friend — your guardian spirit?" 

Manabozho immediately took up his rattle, and with- 
out rising from the ground where he was sitting, began 
to sing the chant which has at every close the refrain 
of, "Wha lay le aw." 

When he had dwelt for a long time on this peculiar 
chant, which he had been used to sing in all his times 

37 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

of trouble, lie laid his rattle aside and determined to 
fast. For this purpose he went to a cave which faced 
the setting sun and built a very small fire, near which 
he lay down, first telling his wife that neither she nor 
the children must come near him till he had finished his 
fast. 

At the end of seven days he came back to the lodge, 
pale and thin, looking like a spirit himself, and as if he 
had seen spirits. His wife had in the meantime dug 
through the snow and got a few of the roots called 
truffles. These she boiled and set before him, and this 
was all the food they had or seemed likely to obtain. 

"When he had finished his light repast, Manabozho 
took up his station in the door to see what would 
happen. As he stood thus, holding in his hand his 
large bow, with a quiver well filled with arrows, a 
deer glided past along the far edge of the prairie ; but 
it was miles away, and no shaft that Manabozho could 
shoot would be able to touch it. 

Presently a cry come down the air, and looking up 
he beheld a great flight of birds ; but they were so far 
up in the sky that he would have lost his arrows in a 
vain attempt among the clouds. 

Still he stood watchful and confident that some turn 
of luck was about to occur, when there came near to 
the lodge two hunters, who bore between them on poles, 
a bear; and it was so fine and fat a bear that it was as 
much as the two hunters could do with all their strength 
to carry it. 

38 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

As they came to the lodge-door, one of the hunters 
asked if Manabozho lived thereabout. 

"He is here," answered Manabozho. 

"I have often heard of you," said the first hunter, 
"and I was curious to see you. But you have lost your 
magical power. Do you know whether any of it is 
left?" 

Manabozho answered that he was himself in the dark 
on the subject. 

"Suppose you make a trial," said the hunter. 

"What shall I do?" asked Manabozho. 

"There is my friend," said the hunter, pointing to 
his companion, "who with me owns this bear which we 
are carrying home. Suppose you see if you can change 
him into a piece of rock. ' ' 

"Very well," said Manabozho; and he had scarcely 
spoken before the other hunter became a rock. 

"Now change him back again," said the first hunter. 

"That I can't do," Manabozho answered; "there my 
power ends." 

The hunter looked at the rock with a bewildered face. 

"What shall I do?" he asked. "This bear I can 
never carry alone, and it was agreed between my friend 
there and myself, that we should not divide it till we 
reached home. Can't you change my friend back, 
Manabozho?" 

"I would like to oblige you," answered Manabozho, 
"but it is utterly out of my power." 

With this, looking again at the rock with a sad and 

39 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

bewildered face, and then casting a sorrowful glance at 
the bear, which lay by the door of the lodge, the hunter 
took his leave, bewailing bitterly at heart the loss of his 
friend and his bear. 

He was scarcely out of sight when Manabozho sent 
the children to get red willow sticks. Of these he cut 
off as many pieces of equal length as would serve to 
invite his friends among the beasts and birds to a feast. 
A red stick was sent to each one, not forgetting the 
woodpecker and his family. 

When they arrived they were astonished to see such 
an abundance of meat prepared for them at such a time 
of scarcity. Manabozho understood their glance and 
was proud of a chance to make such a display. 

"Akewazi," he said to the oldest of the party, "the 
weather is very cold, and the snow lasts a long time ; 
we can kill nothing now but small squirrels, and they 
are all black. I have sent for you to help me eat some 
of them.' ' 

The woodpecker was the first to try a mouthful of the 
bear's meat, but he had no sooner begun to taste it than 
it changed into a dry powder and set him coughing. It 
appeared as bitter as ashes. 

The moose was affected in the same way, and it 
brought on such a dry cough as to shake every bone in 
his body. 

One by one, each in turn joined the company of 
coughers, except Manabozho and his family, to whom 
the bear's meat proved very savory. 

40 



MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER 

But the visitors had too high a sense of what was due 
to decorum and good manners to say anything. The 
meat looked very fine, and being keenly set and strongly 
tempted by its promising look, they thought they would 
try more of it. The more they ate the faster they 
coughed and the louder became the uproar, until Mana- 
bozho, exerting the magical gift which he found he re- 
tained, changed them all into squirrels ; and to this day 
the squirrel surfers from the same dry cough which was 
brought on by attempting to sup off of Manabozho's 
ashen bear's meat. 

And even after this transformation, when Mana- 
bozho lacked provisions for his family, he would hunt 
the squirrel, a supply of which never failed him, so that 
he was always sure to have a number of his friends 
present, in this shape, at the banquet. 

The rock into which he changed the hunter, thus 
becoming possessed of the bear, and laying the founda- 
tions of his good fortune, ever after remained by his 
lodge-door, and it was called the Game-Bag of Mana- 
bozho, the Mischief -Maker. 



5 




41 



Ill 

THE RED SWAN 

THREE brothers were left destitute at an early age 
by the death of their parents. The eldest was 
not yet able to provide fully for their support, but he 
did all that he could in hunting ; and with this aid, and 
the stock of provisions already laid by in the lodge, 
they managed to keep along. They had no neighbors 
to lend them a helping hand, for the father had with- 
drawn many years before from the body of the tribe 
and had lived ever since in a solitary place. The lads 
had no idea that there was a human being near them. 
They did not even know who their parents had been; 
for at the time of their death, the eldest was too young 
to remember it. 

Forlorn as they were, they nevertheless kept a good 
heart, made use of every chance and in course of time 
acquired a knowledge of hunting and the pursuit of 
game. The eldest became expert in the craft of the 
forest, and he was very successful in procuring food. 
He was noted for his skill in killing buffalo, elk, and 
moose; and he instructed his brothers, so that each 
should become a master over a particular animal which 
was assigned to him. 

42 



THE RED SWAN 

After they liad become able to hunt and to take care 
of themselves, the elder proposed to leave them and to 
go in search of the world, promising to return and bring 
them wives as soon as he could procure them. In this 
intention he was over-ruled by his brothers, who said 
that they could not part with him. 

Jeekewis, the second, was loud in disapproval of the 
scheme, saying : " What will you do with those you pro- 
pose to get? We have lived so long by ourselves, we 
can still do without them." This counsel prevailed, 
and for a time the three brothers continued together. 

One day they each agreed to kill a male of that kind 
of animal which each was most expert in hunting, for 
the purpose of making quivers from the skins. When 
these quivers were prepared, they were straightway 
filled with arrows ; for the brothers all had a presenti- 
ment that something was about to happen which called 
upon them to be ready. 

Soon after they hunted on a wager to see who should 
come in first with game. This one was to have the 
privilege of acting as entertainer to the others, but they 
were to shoot no other beast or bird than such as each 
was in the habit of killing. 

They set out on different paths. Maidwa, the 
youngest, had not gone far before he saw a bear, an 
animal he was not to kill, according to the agreement. 
He, however, followed him closely, and driving an 
arrow through and through him, brought him to the 
ground. 

43 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

Then Maidwa commenced skinning him, when sud- 
denly something red tinged the air all around him. He 
rubbed his eyes, thinking he was perhaps deceived ; but 
rub as hard as he would, the red hue still crimsoned 
the air, and tinged with its delicate splendor every 
object that he looked on — the tree-tops, the river that 
flowed, and the deer that glided away along the edge 
of the forest. 

As he stood musing on this fairy spectacle, a strange 
noise came to his ear from a distance. At first it 
seemed like a human voice. Following the sound, he 
reached the shore of a lake. Floating at a distance 
upon its waters sat a most beautiful Eed Swan, whose 
plumage glittered in the sun. When it lifted up its 
neck, it uttered the peculiar tone he had heard. He 
was within long bow-shot, and, drawing the arrow to his 
ear, he took careful aim and discharged the shaft. It 
had no effect. The beautiful bird sat proudly on the 
water still pouring forth its peculiar chant, still 
spreading the radiance of its plumage far and wide, 
and lighting up the whole world with its ruby splendors. 

Maidwa shot again and again, till his quiver was 
empty, for he longed to possess so glorious a creature. 
But the swan, untouched, did not even spread its wings 
to fly. Circling round and round, it stretched its long 
neck and dipped its bill into the water, as if indifferent 
to mortal shafts. 

Maidwa ran home, and bringing all the arrows in the 
lodge, shot them away. He then stood with his bow 

44 



THE RED SWAN 

dropped at his side, lost in wonder, gazing at the beau- 
tiful bird. 

While standing thus, with a heart beating more and 
more eagerly every moment for the possession of this 
fair swan, Maidwa remembered the saying of his elder 
brother, that in their dead father's medicine-sack were 
three magic arrows; but his brother had not told 
Maidwa that their father, on his death-bed, had espe- 
cially bequeathed the arrows to his youngest son, 
Maidwa, from whom they had been wrongfully kept. 
The thought of the magic arrows put heart in Maidwa, 
and he hastened with all speed to procure them. 

At any other time he would have shrunk from open- 
ing his father's medicine-sack, but something prompted 
him to believe that there was no wrong in it now, and 
snatching the arrows forth, he ran back, not staying 
to restore the other contents to the sack but leaving 
them scattered, here and there, about the lodge. 

He feared that the swan must by this time have taken 
wing; but as he emerged from the wood, he found to 
his great delight the air as rosy as ever, and there sat 
the glorious Eed Swan in her own serene and beautiful 
way. 

With trembling hand he shot the first of his magic 
shafts ; it grazed a wing. The second came closer, and 
cut away a few of the bright red feathers, which flut- 
tered and fell like flakes of fire in the water. The third, 
which he carefully aimed and drew home upon the 
string with all his force, made the lucky hit, and passed 

45 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

through the nock of the bird a little above the breast. 

"She is mine," cried Maidwa, but to his great sur- 
prise, instead of drooping its neck and drifting to the 
shore, the Red Swan flapped its wings, rose slowly, and 
flew off with a majestic motion toward the falling sun. 

Maidwa, that he might meet his brothers with a good 
face, rescued two of the magic arrows from the water. 
And although the third was borne off, he had a hope yet 
to recover that one, too, and to be master of the swan. 
He was noted for his speed; for he would shoot an 
arrow and then run so fast that the arrow always fell 
behind him. He now set off at his best speed of foot. 

"I can run fast," he thought, "and I can get up with 
the swan sometime or other." 

He sped on over hills and prairies toward the west, 
and was only going to take one more run and then seek 
a place to sleep for the night, when, suddenly, he heard 
noises at a distance, like the murmur of waters against 
the shore. As he went on, he heard voices, and pres- 
ently he saw people, some of whom were busy felling 
trees, the strokes of their labor echoing through the 
woods. He passed on, and when he emerged from the 
forest, the sun was just falling below the edge of the 
sky. 

He was bent on success in pursuit of the swan, whose 
red track he marked well far westward till she was lost 
to sight. Meanwhile he would tarry for the night and 
procure something to eat, as he had fasted since he had 
left home. 

46 




SHE IS MINE, CRIED MAIDWA, BUT TO HIS GREAT SURPRISE THE RED 
SWAN FLEW OFF TOWARD THE FALLING SUN'" Page 46 



THE RED SWAN 

At a distance, on rising ground, he could see the 
lodges of a large village. He went toward it and soon 
heard the voice of the watchman, who was set on a 
height to overlook the place and give notice of the ap- 
proach of friends or foes. "We are visited," he cried, 
and a loud halloo indicated that all had heard it. 

When Maidwa advanced, the watchman pointed to the 
lodge of the chief. "It is there you must go in," he 
said, and left him. 

''Come in, come in," said the chief; "take a seat 
there," pointing to the side of the lodge where his 
daughter sat. "It is there you must sit." 

They gave him something to eat, and very few ques- 
tions were put to him, because he was a stranger; it 
was only when he spoke that the others answered. 

"Daughter," said the chief, as soon as the night had 
set in, "take out son-in-law's moccasins and see if they 
be torn; if so, mend them for him and bring in his 
bundle." 

Maidwa thought it strange that he should be so 
warmly received, and instantly married against his own 
wishes, although he could not help noticing that the 
chief's daughter was pretty. 

It was some time before she would take the moccasins 
which he had laid off. It displeased him to see her loth 
to do so; and when at last she did reach them, he 
snatched them from her hand and hung them up him- 
self. He lay down and thought of the swan, and made 
up his mind to be off with the dawn. He wakened 

47 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

early, and finding the chief's daughter looking forth 
at the door, he spoke to her, hut she gave no answer. 
He touched her lightly. 

"What do you want?" she said, and turned her face 
away from hiin. 

1 'Tell me," said Maidwa, "what time the swan 
passed. I am following it; come out, and point the 
way. ' ' 

"Do you think you can overtake it?" she said. 

"Yes," he answered. 

"Naubesah — fool!" retorted the chief's pretty 
daughter. 

She went out, however, and pointed in the direction 
he should go. The young man paced slowly along till 
the sun arose, when he commenced traveling at his ac- 
customed speed. He passed the day in running, and 
although he could not see the Eed Swan anywhere on 
the horizon, he thought that he discerned a faint red 
light far over in the west. 

When night came, he was pleased to find himself 
near another village. When still at a distance he heard 
the watchman crying out, "We are visited," and soon 
the men of the village stood out to see the stranger. 

He was again told to enter the lodge of the chief, and 
his reception was in every respect the same as on the 
previous night ; except that this young woman was more 
beautiful than the first, and that she entertained him 
very kindly. Although urged to stay with them, the 
mind of Maidwa was fixed on the object of his journey. 

48 



THE RED SWAN 

Before daybreak he asked the young woman at what 
time the Red Swan passed, and to point out the way. 
She marked against the sky with her finger the course 
it had taken, and told him that it had passed yesterday 
when the sun was between midday and its falling-place. 

Maidwa again set out rather slowly, but when the sun 
had risen, he tried his speed by shooting an arrow 
ahead and running after it ; it fell behind him, and he 
knew that he had lost nothing of his quickness of foot. 

Nothing remarkable happened through the day, and 
he went on leisurely. Some time after dark, as he was 
peering around the country for shelter, he saw a light 
emitted from a small low lodge. He went up to it very 
slyly, and, peeping through the door, he discovered an 
old man alone, with his head down upon his breast, 
warming his back before the fire. 

Maidwa thought that the old man did not know that 
he was standing near the door ; but in this he was mis- 
taken, for, without turning his eyes to look at him, the 
old man said : 

" Walk in, my grandchild ; take a seat opposite to me, 
and take off your things and dry them, for you must be 
fatigued. I will prepare you something to eat; you 
shall have something very delicate." 

Maidwa accepted this kind invitation and entered the 
lodge. The old man then remarked, as if in mere 
course of conversation : 

"My kettle with water stands near the fire." 

Immediately a small earthen pot with legs appeared 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

by the fire. He then took one grain of corn, also one 
of whortleberry, and put thera in the pot. 

Maidwa was very hungry, and seeing the limited 
scale of the old man's housekeeping, he thought his 
chance for a supper was slight. The old man had 
promised him something very delicate, and he seemed 
likely to keep his word. But Maidwa looked on 
silently, and did not change his face any more than if 
the greatest banquet that was ever spread had been 
going forward. 

The pot soon boiled, whereupon the old man said in 
a very quiet way: 

"The pot will stand at a distance from the fire." 

The pot removed itself, and the old man added to 
Maidwa : 

"My grandchild, feed yourself," handing him at the 
same time a dish and ladle of the same ware as the pot 
itself. 

The young man, whose hunger was very great, helped 
himself to all that was in the pot. He felt ashamed to 
think that he had done so, but before he could speak the 
old man said : 

"Eat, my grandchild; eat, eat!" and soon after he 
again said — "Help yourself from the pot." 

Maidwa was surprised, on dipping in his ladle, to see 
that the pot was full; and although he emptied it a 
second time, it was still again filled and refilled till his 
hunger was entirely satisfied. The old man then ob- 
served, without raising his voice : 

50 



THE RED SWAN 

"The pot will return to its corner," and the pot took 
itself off to its accustomed place in an out-of-the-way 
corner of the lodge. 

Maidwa observed that the old man was about to ad- 
dress him, and took an attitude which showed that he 
was prepared to listen. 

"Keep on, my grandchild," said the old man; "you 
will surely gain that which you seek. To tell you more 
I am not permitted ; but go on as you have begun and 
you will not be disappointed. To-morrow you will 
again reach one of my fellow old men, but it is the one 
you will see after him who will tell you all, and the 
manner in which you must proceed to accomplish your 
journey. Often has this Red Swan passed, and those 
who have followed it have never returned ; but you must 
be firm in your resolution, and be prepared for all that 
may happen." 

1 ' So will it be," answered Maidwa ; and they both lay 
down to sleep. 

Early in the morning the old man ordered his magic 
kettle to prepare breakfast, so that his guest might eat 
before leaving. As Maidwa passed out, the old man 
gave him a blessing with his parting advice. 

Maidwa set forth in better spirits than at any time 
since he had started ; and night again found him in com- 
pany with another old man who also had a frisky little 
kettle which hurried up to the fire before it was spoken 
to, bustled about and set supper briskly before Maidwa, 
and then frisked away again, without waiting for 

51 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

orders. This old man entertained kirn kindly and also 
carefully directed him on his way in the morning. 

He traveled with a light heart, as he now expected 
to meet the one who was to give him directions how to 
proceed to get the Red Swan. 

Toward night-fall Maidwa reached the lodge of the 
third old man. Before coming to the door he heard him 
saying : 

"Grandchild, come in." And going in promptly he 
felt quite at home. 

The old man prepared him something to eat, acting 
as the other magicians had done ; and his kettle was of 
the same size, and looked as if it were an own brother 
of the two others which had feasted him, except that 
this kettle, in coming and going about its household 
duties, would make a passing remark or sing a little 
tune for itself. 

The old man waited until Maidwa had fully satisfied 
his hunger before he addressed him : 

"Young man, the errand you are bound on is beset 
with trials and difficulties. Numbers have passed with 
the same purpose as that which now prompts you, but 
they never returned. Be careful, and if your guardian 
spirits are powerful, you may succeed. This Bed Swan 
you are following is the daughter of a magician who has 
abundance of everything, but only this one child, whom 
he values more than the sacred arrows. In former 
times he wore a cap of wampum, which was attached 
to his scalp ; but powerful Indians, warriors of a distant 



THE RED SWAN 

chief, came and told him that their chief's daughter was 
on the brink of the grave, and that she herself requested 
his wampum-cap, which she was confident would save 
her life. 'If I can only see it,' she said, 'I will recover.' 
It was for this cap they had come, and after long solici- 
tation the magician at length consented to part with it, 
in hope that it would restore to health the dying maiden, 
although when he took it off to hand it to the messen- 
gers it left the crown of his head bare and bloody. 
Years have passed since, and his head has not healed. 
The coming of the warriors to procure the cap for the 
sick maiden was a cheat, and they are now constantly 
making sport of the unhappy scalp — dancing it about 
from village to village — and on every insult it receives 
the poor old chief to whom it belongs groans with pain. 
Those who hold it are too powerful for the magician, 
and many have sacrificed themselves to recover it for 
him, but without success. The Red Swan has enticed 
many a young man, as she has you, to enlist them to 
procure the scalp, and whoever is so fortunate as to 
succeed, it is understood, will receive the Eed Swan as 
his reward. In the morning you will proceed on your 
way, and toward evening you will come to this magi- 
cian's lodge. You will know it by the groans which 
you will hear far over the prairie as you approach. He 
will ask you in. You will see no one but himself. He 
will question you much as to your dreams and the 
strength of your guardian spirits. If he is satisfied 
with your answers, he will urge you to attempt the re- 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

covery of his scalp. He will show you the course to 
take, aud if you feel inclined, as I see that you shall, go 
forward, my son, with a strong heart; persevere, and 
I have a presentiment that you will succeed. ' ' 

Maidwa answered, "I will try." 

Betimes in the morning he set off on his journey, 
after having eaten from the magic kettle, which sang a 
sort of farewell chant on its way from the fireplace to 
its station in the corner. 

Toward evening as he crossed a prairie, Maidwa 
heard groans from a distant lodge, which were only in- 
terrupted by a voice from a person whom he could not 
see, calling to him aloud : 

1 ' Come in ! come in ! " 

As the young man entered the lodge, the magician 
heaved a great groan from the very bottom of his chest, 
and Maidwa saw that the crown of his head was all bare 
and bloody. 

"Sit down, sit down," he said, "while I prepare you 
something to eat. You see how poor I am. I have to 
attend to all my own wants, with no other servant than 
that poor little kettle in the corner. Kettle, we will 
have something to eat, if you please." 

"In a moment," the kettle spoke up from the corner. 

"You will oblige me by making all the despatch you 
can," said the magician, in a very humble tone, still 
addressing the kettle. 

"Have patience," replied the kettle, "and I will be 
with you presently." 

54 



THE RED SWAN 

After a considerable delay, there came forward out 
of the corner from which it had spoken a great heavy- 
browed and pot-bellied kettle, which advanced with 
much stateliness and solemnity of manner till it had 
come directly in front of the magician, whom it ad- 
dressed with the question : 

' ' What shall we have, sir f ' ' 

"Corn, if you please," the magician answered. 

"No, we will have whortleberries," rejoined the 
kettle, in a firm voice. 

"Very well; just as you choose." 

When he supposed it was time, the magician invited 
Maidwa to help himself. 

"Hold a minute," interposed the kettle, as Maidwa 
was about to dip in his ladle. He paused, and after a 
delay, the kettle, shaking itself up and simmering very 
loudly, said, "Now we are ready." 

Maidwa fell to and satisfied his hunger. 

"Will the kettle now withdraw?' ' asked the magician, 
with an air of much deference. 

"No," said the kettle, "we will stay and hear what 
the young man has to say for himself." 

"Very well," said the magician. "You see," he 
added to Maidwa, "how poor I am. I have to take 
counsel with the kettle, or I should be all alone, without 
a day's food, and with no one to advise me." 

All this time the Red Swan was carefully concealed 
in the lodge, behind a curtain, from which Maidwa 
heard now and then a rustling noise that fluttered his 

55 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

spirits and set his heart to beating at a wonderful rate. 

As soon as Maidwa had partaken of food and laid 
aside his leggings and moccasins, the old magician com- 
menced telling him how he had lost his scalp, the insults 
it was receiving, the pain he suffered thereby, his 
wishes to regain it, the many unsuccessful attempts 
that had already been made, and the numbers and 
power of those who retained it. He would interrupt 
his discourse at times with sudden groans, and say : 

"Oh, how shamefully they are treating it." 

Maidwa listened to all the old magician had to say 
with solemn attention. 

The magician renewed his discourse and inquired of 
Maidwa as to his dreams, or what he saw in his sleep, 
at such times as he had fasted and darkened his face to 
procure guardian spirits. 

Maidwa then told him one dream. The magician 
groaned. 

"No, that is not it," he said. 

Maidwa told him of two or three others. 

The magician groaned again and again and said, 
rather peevishly, "No, these are not the dreams." 

' ' Keep cool, ' ' said the kettle. It had left the fire and 
was standing in the middle of the floor, where a pleasant 
breeze was blowing through the lodge. Then it added, 
' ' Have you no more dreams of another kind ? ' ' 

"Yes," said Maidwa, and he told him one. 

"That will do," said the kettle. "We are much 
pleased with that." 

5G 



THE RED SWAN 

"Yes, that is it — that is it!" the magician added. 
"You will cause me to live. [That was what I was 
wishing you to say. Will you then go and see if you 
can not recover my poor scalp?" 

"Yes," said Maidwa, "I will go; and the day after 
to-morrow, when you hear the ka-kak cries of the 
hawk, you will know that I am successful. You must 
prepare your head, and lean it out through the door, 
so that the moment I arrive I may place your scalp 
on." 

"Yes, yes," said the magician. "As you say it will 
be done." 

Early the next morning, Maidwa set out to fulfil his 
promise; and in the afternoon, when the sun hangs 
toward home, he heard the shouts of a great many 
people. He was in a wood at the time, and saw, as 
he thought, only a few men, but as he went on they in- 
creased in numbers. When he emerged upon the 
plain, their heads appeared like the hanging leaves, 
they were so many. 

In the middle of the plain he perceived a post and 
something waving at its top. It was the wampum 
scalp; and every now and then the air was rent with 
the war-song, for they were dancing the war-dance in 
high spirit around it. 

Before he could be observed, Maidwa changed him- 
self into a humming-bird, and flew toward the scalp. 
When he passed some of those who were standing by, 
he came close to their ears; as they heard the rapid 

57 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

whirr or murmur which this bird makes when it flies, 
they jumped aside and asked each other what it could 
be. Maidwa by this time had nearly reached the scalp, 
but fearing that he should be perceived while untying 
it, he again changed himself into the down that floats 
lightly on the air, and sailed slowly on to the scalp. 
He loosened it, and moved off heavily, as the weight 
was almost too great for him to carry. The Indians 
around would have snatched it away had not a lucky 
current of air just then buoyed him up. As they saw 
that it was moving away they cried out: 

"It is taken from us ! it is taken from us !" 

Maidwa was borne gently along but a little way 
above their heads ; and as they followed him, the rush 
and hum of the people was like the dead beating of 
the surges upon a lake shore after a storm. But the 
good wind, gaining strength, soon carried him beyond 
their pursuit. A little further on he changed himself 
into a hawk and flew swiftly off with his trophy, cry- 
ing, "Ka-kak! ka-kak!" till the hawk cry resounded 
with its shrill tone throughout the whole country, far 
and wide. 

Meanwhile the magician had remembered the in- 
structions of Maidwa, placing his head outside of the 
lodge as soon as he heard the ka-kak cry of the hawk. 

In a moment Maidwa came past with rustling wings, 
and as he flew he gave the magician a severe blow on 
the head with the wampum-scalp. The old man's 
limbs extended and quivered in pain, but the scalp ad- 

58 



THE RED SWAN 

hered, just as Maidwa, in his own person, walked into 
the lodge and sat down, feeling perfectly at home. 

The magician was so long in recovering from the 
stunning blow which had been dealt him, that Maidwa 
feared he had destroyed his life in restoring the crown 
of his head. Presently, however, he was pleased to 
see him show by the motion of his hands and limbs 
that his strength was returning; and in a little while 
he rose and stood upon his feet. What was the de- 
light of Maidwa to behold, instead of a withered old 
man far advanced in years and stricken in sorrow, a 
bright and cheerful youth, who glittered with life as he 
stood up before him. 

" Thank you, my friend," he said. "Your kind- 
ness and bravery of heart have restored me to my 
former shape. It was so ordained, and you have now 
accomplished the victory." 

They embraced, and the young magician urged the 
stay of his deliverer for a few days. This invitation 
Maidwa was glad to accept and they formed a strong 
attachment to each other. 

The magician, to the deep regret of Maidwa, never 
once alluded to the Eed Swan in all their conferences. 

At last the day arrived when Maidwa prepared to 
return to his home. The young magician bestowed on 
him ample presents of wampum, fur, robes, and other 
costly things. Although Maidwa 's heart was burning 
within him to see the Eed Swan, to hear her spoken 
of, and to learn what his fortune was to be in regard 

59 



THE IXDIAX FAIRY BOOK 

to that fond object of his pursuit, he constrained his 
feelings and so checked his countenance as never to 
look where he supposed she might be. His friend the 
young magician observed the same silence and caution. 

Maidwa 's pack for traveling was now ready, and he 
was taking his farewell smoke, when the young magi- 
cian thus addressed him : 

"My friend Maidwa, you know for what cause you 
came thus far, and why you have risked so much and 
waited so long. You have proved my friend indeed. 
You have accomplished your object, and your noble 
perseverance shall not go unrewarded. If you under- 
take other things with the same spirit, you will always 
succeed. My destiny compels me to remain where I 
am, although I should feel happy to be allowed to go 
with you. I have given you, of ordinary gifts, all you 
will need as long as you live; but I see you are back- 
ward to speak of the Red Swan. I appreciate your 
delicacy, but I vowed that whoever procured me my 
lost wampum-scalp should be rewarded by possessing 
her." 

He then spoke in a language which Maidwa did not 
understand, the curtain of the lodge parted, and the 
Red Swan met his delighted gaze. It was a beautiful 
maiden that he beheld, so majestic and airy in her look, 
that he seemed to see a creature whose home should 
rather be in the free heaven, among the rosy clouds, 
than in this dusky lodge. 

"Take her," the young magician said, "she is my 



THE RED SWAN 

sister; treat her well. She is worthy of you, and 
what you have done for me merits more. She is ready 
to go with you to your kindred and friends, and has 
been so ever since your arrival. My good wishes shall 
go with you both." 

The Eed Swan smiled kindly on Maidwa, who ad- 
vanced and greeted her. Hand in hand, then, they 
took their way forth from the lodge, and, watched by 
the young magician, advanced across the prairie on 
their homeward course. 

They traveled slowly and looked with double joy on 
the beautiful country over which they had both so 
lately passed with hearts ill at ease. 

After two or three days they reached the lodge of 
the third old man who had entertained him with the 
singing kettle; but the kettle was not there. The old 
man, nevertheless, received them very kindly, and said 
to Maidwa : 

"You see what your perseverance has secured you; 
do so always, and you will succeed in whatever you 
undertake." 

On the following morning, when they were about to 
start, he pulled from the side of the lodge a bag, which 
he presented to Maidwa, saying : 

"Grandchild, I give you this; it contains a present 
for you ; and I hope you will live happily till old age. ' ' 

Bidding him farewell, they again set forward; and 
they soon came to the second old man's lodge. He 
also gave them a present and bestowed his blessing. 

61 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

Nor did Maidwa see anything here of the frisky little 
kettle which had been so lively on his former visit. 

As they went on and came to the lodge of the first 
old man, their reception and farewell were the same; 
only when Maidwa glanced to the corner he failed to 
see the silent kettle, which had served him so well. 
The old man smiled when he discovered the direction 
of Maidwa 's glance, but he said nothing. 

"When, on continuing their journey, they at last ap- 
proached the first town that Maidwa passed in his pur- 
suit, the watchman gave notice as before, and Maidwa 
was shown into the chief's lodge. 

''Sit down there, son-in-law, " said the chief, point- 
ing to a place near his daughter. ''And you also," 
he said to the Bed Swan. 

The chief's daughter was engaged in coloring a 
girdle, and, as indifferent to these visitors, she did not 
even raise her head. Presently the chief said, "Let 
some one bring in the bundle of our son-in-law." 

When the bundle was laid before him, Maidwa 
opened one of the bags which had been given to him. 
It was filled with various costly articles — wampum, 
robes, and trinkets of much richness and value ; these, 
in token of his kindness, he presented to the chief. 
The chief's daughter stole a glance at the costly gifts, 
then at Maidwa and his beautiful wife. She stopped 
working and was silent and thoughtful all the even- 
ing. The chief himself talked with Maidwa of his 
adventures, congratulated him on his good fortune, 

C2 



THE RED SWAN 

and concluded by telling him that he should take his 
daughter along with him in the morning. 

"Yes," said Maidwa. 

The chief then spoke up, saying, "Daughter, be 
ready to go with him in the morning." 

Now it happened when the chief was thus speaking 
that there was a foolish fellow in the lodge, who had 
thought to have got this chief's daughter for a wife. 
He jumped up, looked grimly at Maidwa, and said : 

"Who is he that he should take her for a few pres- 
ents? I will kill him." 

And he raised a knife which he had in his hand and 
gave it a mighty flourish in the air. He kept up this 
terrible flourish till some one came and pulled him back 
to his seat. He had been waiting for this and yielded 
quietly enough. 

At peep of day amid the greetings of their new 
friends, Maidwa and the Eed Swan, with the chief's 
daughter, took their leave. Toward evening they 
reached the other town. The watchman gave the 
signal, and numbers of men, women and children stood 
out to see them. They were again shown into the 
chief 's lodge, and the chief welcomed Maidwa, saying : 

"Son-in-law, you are welcome." 

And he requested Maidwa to take a seat by his 
daughter, and the two women did the same. 

After suitable refreshments for all, and while 
Maidwa smoked a pipe, the chief asked him to relate 
his adventures in the hearing of all the inmates of the 

63 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

lodge and of the strangers who had gathered in at re- 
port of his singular fortunes. 

Maidwa gave them his whole story. When he came 
to those parts which related to the Eed Swan, they 
turned and looked upon her in wonder and admiration, 
for she was very beautiful. 

The chief then informed Maidwa that his brothers 
had been to their town in search of him, but that they 
had gone back some time before, having given up all 
hopes of ever seeing him again. 

"But you are a man of spirit," the chief continued, 
"whom fortune is pleased to befriend. Take my 
daughter with you and treat her well. So shall we be 
more closely bound together." 

It is always the case in an assembly or gathering 
that some one of the number is foolish and disposed 
to play the clown. It happened to be so here. One 
of this very sort was in the lodge, and now this pre- 
tender jumped up in a passion and cried out: 

"Who is this stranger, that he should have her? I 
want her myself." 

The chief bade him be quiet, and not to disturb or 
quarrel with one who was enjoying their hospitality. 

"No, no," he exclaimed, rushing forward as in act 
to strike. 

Maidwa sat unmoved and paid no heed to his 
threats. 

He cried the louder — "I will have her, I will have 
her!" whereupon the old chief, being now vexed past 

04 



THE RED SWAN 

patience, took his great war-club and tapped this 
clownish fellow upon the head, which so far subdued 
him that he sat for some time quite still ; when, after a 
while, he came to himself, the chief upbraided him for 
his folly and told him to go out and tell stories to the 
old women. 

When at last Maidwa was about to leave he made 
rich presents and invited a number of the families of 
the chief to go with him and visit his hunting-grounds, 
where he promised them that they would find game in 
abundance. They consented, and in the morning a 
large company assembled and joined Maidwa; and the 
chief, with a party of warriors, escorted them a long 
distance. When ready to return, the chief made a 
speech and besought the blessing of the Good Spirit 
on Maidwa and his friends. 

The two companies parted, marching away over the 
prairie, each on its own course, their waving feathers 
glittering in the morning sun, their war-drums sound- 
ing afar. 

After several days' travel, Maidwa and his friends 
came in sight of his home. The others rested within 
the woods while he went alone in advance to see his 
brothers. 

He entered the lodge. It was all in confusion and 
covered with ashes. On one side was his elder brother, 
sitting among the cinders, with his face blackened, and 
crying aloud. On the other side sat the younger, Jee- 
kewis, also with blackened face, his head covered with 

65 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

stray feathers and tufts of swan-down. This one pre- 
sented so curious a figure that Maidwa could not keep 
from laughing. He seemed to be so lost and far-gone 
in grief that he could not notice his brother's arrival. 
The eldest, however, lifted up his head and recognized 
Maidwa, then jumped up and shook hands, kissed him, 
and expressed much joy at his return. 

Maidwa, as soon as he had received his brother's 
greeting, made known that he had brought each of 
them a wife. And now Jeekewis, hearing a wife 
spoken of, roused from his torpor and sprang to his 
feet, crying loudly: 

"Why, did you come just now?" and at once made 
for the door and peeped out to see the strangers. He 
then commenced jumping and laughing and crying out, 
"Women! women!" and that was all the reception he 
gave his brother. But Maidwa told them to wash 
themselves and put the lodge in order while he went 
to fetch the wives in. 

Jeekewis scampered about and began to wash him- 
self; but he would every now and then, with one side 
of his head all feathers and the other clear and shining, 
peep forth to look at the women again. When they 
came near, he said, "I will have this one. No, that 
one"; he did not exactly know which; he would sit 
down for an instant, and then rise, and peep about and 
laugh ; in fact he acted like one beside himself. 

As soon as order was restored, and all the company 

G6 



THE RED SWAN 

who had been brought in were seated, Maidwa pre- 
sented one of the chief's daughters to his eldest 
brother, saying: "These women were given to me, to 
dispose of in marriage. I now give one to each. I 
intended so from the first." 

Maidwa led the other daughter to Jeekewis and 
said, "My brother, here is a wife for you. Live hap- 
pily." 

Jeekewis hung down his head as if he were ashamed, 
but he would every now and then steal a look at his 
wife and also at the other women. 

By and by he turned toward his wife and acted as 
if he had been married for years. 

Maidwa, seeing that no preparation had been made 
to entertain the company, said, "Are we to have no 
supper ? ' ' 

He had no sooner spoken, than forth from a corner 
stepped the silent kettle, which placed itself by the 
fire and began bubbling and boiling quite briskly. 
Presently this was joined by the big talking kettle, 
which said, addressing itself to Maidwa, "Master, we 
shall be ready presently." And then, dancing along, 
there came from still another corner the frisky little 
kettle, which hopped to their side and took an active 
part in the preparations for the evening meal. When 
all was nearly ready, a delicate voice was heard sing- 
ing in the last corner of the lodge, and keeping up its 
dainty carol all the way to the fireplace, the fourth ket- 

67 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

tie joined the three cooks. Then they all fell to with 
all their roight to despatch their work in the best pos- 
sible humor. 

It was not long before the big kettle advanced to- 
ward Maidwa and said, in his own confident way, 
"Supper is ready!" 

The feast was a jovial one, for they were all hungry, 
and plied their ladles with right good will. And yet 
the four magic kettles held out, dip in as often as they 
would, and had plenty to the end of the revel. 

And now to draw to a close, Maidwa and his friends 
lived in peace for a time ; their town prospered ; there 
was no lack of children; and everything else was in 
abundance. 

But one day the two brothers began to look darkly 
upon Maidwa. They reproached him for having taken 
from the medicine-sack their dead father's magic 
arrows; they upbraided him especially that one was 
lost. 

After listening to them in silence, he said that he 
would go in search of the lost arrow, and that it should 
be restored; and the very next day, true to his word, 
he left them. 

After traveling a long way and looking in every 
direction, almost hopeless of discovering the lost treas- 
ure, he came to an opening in the earth. When he de- 
scended this, it led him to the abode of departed spirits. 
The country appeared beautiful, the pastures were 
greener than his own, the sky bluer than that which 

GS 



THE RED SWAN 

hung over the lodge, and the extent of it was utterly 
lost in a dim distance. Moreover he saw animals of 
every kind wandering about in great numbers. The 
first he came to were buffalos; and his surpise was 
great when they addressed him as human beings. 

They asked him what he came for, how he had de- 
scended, and why he was so bold as to visit the abode 
of the dead. 

He answered that he was in quest of a magic arrow, 
to appease the anger of his brothers. 

"Very well," said the leader of the buffalos, whose 
form was nothing but bone. "Yes, we know it," and 
he and his followers moved off a little space from 
Maidwa, as if they were afraid of him. "You have 
come," resumed the buffalo-spirit, "to a place where 
a living man has never before been. Return imme- 
diately to your tribe, for under pretence of recover- 
ing one of the magic arrows which belong to you by 
your father's dying wish, your brothers have sent 
you off so that they may become possessed of your 
beautiful wife, the Eed Swan. Speed home ! You 
I will find the magic arrow at the lodge-door. You will 
i live to a very old age, and die happily. You can go 
ino farther in these abodes of ours." 

Maidwa looked, as he thought, to the west, and saw 
a bright light as if the sun was shining in its splendor, 
but he saw no sun. 

"What light is that yonder?" he asked. 

The buffalo whose form was nothing but bone an- 



THE IXDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

swered — "It is the place where those who were good 
dwell." 

"And that dark cloud?" Maidwa again asked. 

"It is the place of the wicked," answered the buffalo. 

This cloud was very dark and to look upon it pained 
his eyes. So Maidwa moved away with the help of 
his guardian spirits, stood upon the earth again, and 
beheld the sun giving light as usual. 

All else that he learned in the abodes of the dead is 
unknown, for he never spoke of it to any human being. 

After regaining the earth and wandering a long 
time to gather knowledge to make his people happy 
and to add to their comfort, he drew near to his vil- 
lage one evening. Passing all the other lodges he 
came to his own door, where he found the magic arrow, 
as he had been promised. He heard his brothers 
within at high words with each other. They were 
quarrelling for the possession of his wife, who had 
remained constant through all his absence, and sadly 
awaited his return. Maidwa listened in shame and 
sorrow. 

He entered the lodge, holding his head aloft as one 
conscious of good principle and shining with anger. 
He spoke not a word, but placing the magic arrow 
to his bow, he would have laid his brothers dead at 
his feet. 

Just then, however, the talking kettle stepped for- 
ward and spoke such words of wisdom, the singing 
kettle trolled forth such a soothing little song, the 

70 



THE RED SWAN 

guilty brothers were so contrite and keenly repentant 
of their intended wrong, the Red Swan was so radiant 
and forgiving, the silent kettle straightway served 
them up so hearty and wholesome a meal, and the 
frisky little kettle was so joyful and danced about so 
merrily, that Maidwa decided to forgive them. And 
when the magic arrows were laid away in the medicine- 
sack, there was in all the Indian country that night no 
happier family than the three brothers, who ever after 
dwelt together in all kindness, as all good brothers 
should. 




71 



IV 
THE CELESTIAL SISTERS 

WAUPEE, or the White Hawk, lived in a remote 
part of the forest, where animals abounded. 
Every day he returned from the chase with a large 
spoil, for he was one of the most skilful and lucky 
hunters of his tribe. His form was like the cedar; 
the fire of youth beamed from his eye; there was no 
forest too gloomy for him to penetrate, and no track 
made by bird or beast of any kind which he could not 
readily follow. 

One day he had gone beyond any point which he had 
ever before visited. He traveled through an open 
wood, which enabled him to see a great distance. At 
length he beheld a light breaking through the foliage 
of the distant trees, which made him sure that he was 
on the borders of a prairie. It was a wide plain, cov- 
ered with long blue grass, and enamelled with flowers 
of a thousand lovely tints. 

After walking for some time without a path, mus- 
ing upon the open country and enjoying the fragrant 
breeze, he suddenly came to a ring worn among the 
grass and the flowers, as if it had been made by foot- 
steps moving lightly round and round. But it was 
strange — so strange as to cause the White Hawk to 

72 



THE CELESTIAL SISTERS 

pause and gaze long and fixedly upon the ground — 
there was no path which led to this flowery circle. 
There was not even a crushed leaf or a broken twig, 
nor did he find the least trace of a footstep, approach- 
ing or retiring. So wondering he thought he would 
hide himself and lie in wait to discover, if he could, 
what this strange circle meant. 

Presently he heard faint sounds of music in the air. 
Looking up in the direction they came from, he saw 
floating a small object, like a little summer cloud that 
approaches down from above the earth. At first it 
was very small, and seemed as if it could have been 
blown away by the first breeze that came along ; but it 
rapidly grew as he gazed upon it, and the music every 
moment came clearer and more sweetly to his ear. As 
it neared the earth it appeared as a basket, and it was 
filled with twelve sisters, of the most lovely forms and 
enchanting beauty. 

As soon as the basket touched the ground they 
leaped out, and began straightway to dance around 
the magic ring, in the most joyous manner, striking a 
shining ball, which uttered ravishing melodies, keeping 
time as they danced. 

The White Hawk, from his concealment, gazed with 
delight upon their graceful forms and movements. He 
admired them all, but he was most pleased with the 
youngest. He longed to be at her side, to embrace 
her, to call her his own ; and unable to remain longer a 
silent admirer, he rushed out and endeavored to seize 
73 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

this twelfth beauty who so enchanted him. But the 
sisters, the moment they descried the form of a man, 
leaped back into the basket with the swiftness of birds, 
and were drawn up into the sky. 

Lamenting his ill-luck, "Waupee gazed longingly 
upon the fairy basket as it ascended bearing the lovely 
sisters from his view. 

"They are gone," he said, "and I shall see them no 
more." 

He returned to his solitary lodge, but found no relief 
to his mind. He walked abroad, but to look at the sky, 
which had withdrawn from his sight the only being he 
had ever loved, was painful to him now. 

The next day, selecting the same hour, the White 
Hawk went back to the prairie, and took his station 
near the ring. But in order to deceive the sisters, he 
assumed the form of an opossum, and sat among the 
grass as if he were there engaged in chewing the cud. 
He had not waited long when he saw the cloudy basket 
descend, and heard the same sweet music falling as be- 
fore. He crept slowly toward the ring ; but the instant 
the sisters caught sight of him they were startled, and 
sprang into their car. It rose a short distance when 
one of the elder sisters spoke : 

''Perhaps," she said, "it has come to show us how 
the game is played by mortals." 

"Oh, no," the youngest replied; "quick, let us 
ascend." 

And all joining in a chant, they rose out of sight. 




STRIKING A SHINING BALL WHICH UTTERED RAVISHING MELODIES" 

—Page 73 



THE CELESTIAL SISTERS 

Then Waupee, casting off his disguise, walked sor- 
rowfully back to his lodge — but ah, the night seemed 
very long to lonely White Hawk ! His whole soul was 
filled with the thought of the beautiful sister. 

Betimes, the next day, he returned to the haunted 
spot, hoping and fearing, and sighing as though his 
very soul would leave his body in its anguish. He re- 
flected upon the plan he should follow to secure suc- 
cess. He had already failed twice ; to fail a third time 
would be fatal. By searching he found nearby an old 
stump, much covered with moss, and just then in use 
as the residence of a number of mice, who had stopped 
there on a pilgrimage to some relatives on the other 
side of the prairie. The White Hawk was so pleased 
with their tidy little forms that he thought he, too, 
would be a mouse, especially as they were by no means 
formidable to look at, and would not be at all likely to 
create alarm. 

He accordingly brought the stump and set it near 
the ring. Then, without further notice, he became a 
mouse, and peeped and sported, and kept his sharp lit- 
tle eyes busy with the others ; only he did not forget to 
keep one eye up toward the sky, and one ear wide open 
in the same direction. 

It was not long before the sisters, at their customary 
hour, came down and resumed their sport. 

"But see," cried the youngest sister, "that stump 
was not there before." 

She ran off, frightened, toward the basket. But her 

75 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

sisters only smiled, and gathering round the old tree- 
stump, struck it, in jest, when out ran the mice, and 
among them Waupee. This was sport for the sisters 
and they chased and killed them all save one, which was 
pursued by the twelfth sister, who had decided after 
all to join in the game. As she raised a silver stick 
which she held in her hand to put an end to that, too, 
the form of the White Hawk arose, and he clasped his 
prize in his arms. The other eleven sprang to their 
basket, and were drawn up to the skies. 

Delighted with his success, Waupee exerted all his 
skill to please his bride and win her affections. He 
wiped the tears from her eyes ; he related his adven- 
tures in the chase ; he dwelt upon the charms of life on 
the earth. He was constant in his attentions, keeping 
fondly by her side, and picking out the way for her to 
walk as he led her gently toward his lodge. He felt 
his heart glow with joy as he entered it, and from that 
moment he was one of the happiest of men. 

Winter and summer passed rapidly away, and as 
spring drew near with its balmy gales and its many- 
colored flowers, their happiness was increased by the 
presence of a beautiful boy in their lodge, a son with 
both his mother's beauty and his father's strength. 
What more of earthly blessing was there for them to 
enjoy? 

Waupee 's wife, however, was a daughter of one of 
the stars ; and as the scenes of earth began to pall upon 
her sight, she sighed to revisit her father. But she 

7G 



THE CELESTIAL SISTERS 

hid these feelings from her husband. She remem- 
bered the charm that would carry her up, and while 
White Hawk was engaged in the chase, she took occa- 
sion to construct a wicker basket, which she kept con- 
cealed. In the meantime, she collected such rarities 
from the earth as she thought would please her father, 
as well as the most dainty kinds of food. 

Then on a day when all was in readiness and Wau- 
pee absent, she went out to the charmed ring, taking 
with her her little son. As they entered the car she 
commenced her magical song, and the basket rose. 
The song was sad, and of a lowly and mournful 
cadence, and as it was wafted far away by the wind, 
it caught her husband's ear. It was a voice which he 
well knew, and he instantly ran to the prairie. But 
though he made breathless speed, he could not reach 
the ring before his wife and child had ascended beyond 
his reach. He lifted up his voice in loud appeals, but 
they were unavailing. The basket still went up. He 
watched it till it became a small speck, and finally it 
vanished in the sky. He then bent his head down to 
the ground and was miserable. 

Through a long winter and a long summer Waupee 
bewailed his loss, but he found no relief. The beauti- 
ful spirit had come and gone, and he should see it no 
more! 

In the meantime his wife had reached her home in 
the stars, and in the blissful employments of her 
father's house she almost forgot that she had left a 
77 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

husband upon the earth. But her son, as he grew up, 
resembled his father more and more, and every day 
he was restless and anxious to revisit the scene of his 
birth. His grandfather, perceiving this, said to his 
daughter : 

' ' Go, my child, take your son down to his father, and 
ask him to come up and live with us. But tell him to 
bring along a specimen of each kind of bird and animal 
he kills in the chase. ' ' 

The mother accordingly took the boy and descended. 
And the White Hawk, who was ever near the enchanted 
spot, heard her voice as she came down the sky. His 
heart beat with impatience as he saw her form and that 
of his son, and they were soon clasped in his arms. 

He heard the message of the Star, and he began to 
hunt with the greatest activity, that he might collect 
the present with all despatch. He spent whole nights, 
as well as days, in searching for every curious and 
beautiful animal and bird. But he only preserved a 
foot, a wing, or a tail of each. 

When all was ready, Waupee visited once more each 
favorite spot — the hill-top whence he had been used 
to see the rising sun ; the stream where he had sported 
as a boy ; the old lodge, which he was to sit in no more ; 
and last of all, he came to the magic circle, and gazed 
widely around him with tearful eyes. Then taking his 
wife and child by the hand, he entered the car, and they 
were drawn up — into a country far beyond the flight of 
birds, or the power of mortal eye to pierce. 

78 



THE CELESTIAL SISTERS 

Great joy was manifested upon their arrival at the 
starry plains. The Star Chief invited all his people to 
a feast; and when they had assembled, he proclaimed 
aloud that each one might continue as he was, an in- 
habitant of his own dominions, or select of the earthly 
gifts such as he liked best. A very strange confusion 
immediately arose ; not one but sprang forward. Some 
chose a foot, some a wing, some a tail, and some a 
claw. Those who selected tails or claws were changed 
into animals and ran off ; the others assumed the form 
of birds and flew away. Waupee chose a white hawk's 
feather. His wife and son followed his example, and 
each one became a white hawk. He spread his wings, 
and, followed by his wife and son, descended with the 
other birds to the earth, where they are still to be 
found, with the brightness of the starry plains in their 
eyes and the freedom of the heavenly breezes in their 
wings. 




70 



V 
GRAY EAGLE AND HIS FIVE BROTHERS 

THERE were six falcons living in a nest, five of 
whom were still too young to fly, when it so hap- 
pened that both the parent birds were shot in one day. 
The young brood waited anxiously for their return; 
but night came, and they were left without parents and 
without food. 

Gray Eagle, the eldest, and the only one whose 
feathers had become stout enough to enable him to 
leave the nest, took his place at the head of the family 
and assumed the duty of stifling his brothers' cries and 
providing the little household with food. In this he 
was very successful. But one day, while out on a 
foraging excursion, he got one of his wings broken. 
This was more to be regretted as the season had ar- 
rived when they were soon to go to a southern country 
to pass the winter, and the children were only waiting 
to become a little stronger and more expert on the wing 
to set out on the journey. 

Finding that their elder brother did not return, they 
resolved to go in search of him. After beating up and 
down the country for the better part of a whole day, 

80 



GRAY EAGLE 

they at last found him, sorely wounded and unable to 
fly, lodged in the upper branches of a sycamore tree. 

" Brothers,' ' said Gray Eagle, as they gathered 
around, questioning him about his injuries, "an acci- 
dent has befallen me, but let not this prevent your 
going to a warmer climate. Winter is rapidly ap- 
proaching, and you cannot remain here. It is better 
that I alone should die, than for you all to suffer on my 
account. " 

"No, no," they replied, with one voice. "We will 
not forsake you. We will share your sufferings; we 
will abandon our journey and take care of you as you 
did of us before we were able to take care of ourselves. 
If the chill climate kills you, it shall kill us. Do you 
think we can so soon forget your brotherly care, which 
has equalled a father's, and even a mother's kindness? 
Whether you live or die, we will live or die with you." 

They sought out a hollow tree to winter in, and con- 
trived to carry their wounded nest-mate thither; and 
before the rigor of the season had set in, they had, by 
diligence and economy, stored up food enough to carry 
them through the winter months. 

To make the provisions they had laid in last the bet- 
ter, it was agreed among them that two of their num- 
ber should go south, leaving the other three to watch 
over, feed, and protect their wounded brother. So the 
travelers set forth, sorry to leave home, but resolved 
that the first promise of spring should bring them back 
again. And the three who remained, mounting to the 

81 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

very peak of the tree and bearing Gray Eagle in their 
arras, watched them, as they vanished away southward, 
till their forms blended with the air and were wholly 
lost to sight. 

Then Gray Eagle was propped up in a snug fork 
with cushions of dry moss, and the household was set 
in order. The oldest of the five younger brothers took 
upon himself the charge of nursing Gray Eagle, pre- 
paring his food, bringing him water, and changing his 
pillows when he grew tired of one position. He also 
looked to it that the house itself was kept in a tidy con- 
dition, and that the pantry was supplied with food. 
To the next brother was assigned the duty of physi- 
cian, and he was to prescribe such herbs and other 
medicines as the health of Gray Eagle seemed to re- 
quire. As the doctor brother had no other invalid on 
his visiting-list, he devoted the time not given to the 
cure of his patient to the killing of game wherewith to 
stock the housekeeper's larder; so that, whatever he 
did, he was always busy in the line of professional 
duty — killing or curing. On his hunting excursions 
Doctor Falcon carried with him his youngest brother, 
who, being a foolish young fellow and inexperienced in 
the ways of the world, it was not thought safe to trust 
alone. 

In due time, what with good nursing, good feeding, 
and good air, Gray Eagle recovered from his wound; 
and he then repaid the kindness of his brothers by giv- 

82 



GRAY EAGLE 

ing them such advice and instruction in the art of hunt- 
ing as his age and experience qualified him to impart. 
As spring advanced they began to look about for the 
means of replenishing their storehouse, whose sup- 
plies were running low; and they were all quite suc- 
cessful in their quest except the youngest, whose name 
was Peepi, or the Pigeon-Hawk. He had of late begun 
to set up for himself, but being small and foolish and 
feather-headed, flying hither and yonder without any 
set purpose, it so happened that Peepi always came 
home, so to phrase it, with an empty game-bag and his 
pinions terribly rumpled. 

At last Gray Eagle spoke to him and demanded the 
cause of his ill-luck. 

1 'It is not my smallness or weakness of body," Peepi 
answered, "that prevents my bringing home provender 
as well as my brothers. I am all the time on the wing, 
hither and thither. I kill ducks and other birds every 
time I go out ; but just as I get to the woods, on my way 
home, I am met by a large ko-ko-ho, who robs me of my 
prey; and," added Peepi, with great energy, "it's my 
settled opinion that the villain lies in wait for the very 
purpose of doing so." 

"I have no doubt you are right, Brother Peepi," re- 
joined Gray Eagle. "I know this pirate — his name is 
White Owl ; and now that I feel my strength fully re- 
covered, I will go out with you to-morrow and help you 
look after this greedy bush-ranger." 

S3 



THE IXDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

The next day they weut forth in company and ar- 
rived at a fine fresh-water lake. Gray Eagle seated 
himself hard by, while Peepi started out. The latter 
soon pounced upon a duck. 

"Well done!" thought his brother, who saw his suc- 
cess ; but just as little Peepi was getting to land with 
his prize, up sailed a large white owl from a tree where 
he, too, had been watching, and laid claim to it. He 
was on the point of wresting it from Peepi, when Gray 
Eagle, calling out to the intruder to stop, rushed up, 
fixed his talons in both sides of the owl, and without 
further introduction or ceremony flew away with him. 

The little Pigeon-Hawk followed closely, with the 
duck under his wing, rejoiced and happy to think that 
he had something to carry home at last. He was 
naturally much vexed with the owl, and had no sooner 
delivered over the duck to the housekeeper, than he 
flew in the owl's face and, venting an abundance of re- 
proaches, would have torn the very eyes out of the 
White Owl's head in his passion. 

"Softly, Peepi," said the Gray Eagle, stepping in 
between them. "Don't be in such a huff, my little 
brother, or show so revengeful a temper. Do you not 
know that we are to forgive our enemies f White Owl, 
you may go ; but let this be a lesson to you, not to play 
the tyrant over those who may chance to be weaker 
than yourself." 

So, after adding to this much more good advice and 
telling him what kind of herbs would cure his wounds, 

84 



GRAY EAGLE 

Gray Eagle dismissed White Owl, and the brothers sat 
down to supper. 

The next day, betimes, before the household had 
fairly rubbed the cobwebs out of the corners of their 
eyes, there came a knock at the front door — which was 
a dry branch that lay down before the hollow of the 
tree in which they lodged — and being called to come in, 
who should make their appearance but the two nest- 
mates, who had just returned from the South where 
they had been wintering. There was great rejoicing 
over their return, and now that they were all happily 
reunited, each one soon chose a mate and began to 
keep house in the woods for himself. 

Spring had now revisited the North. The cold winds 
had all blown themselves away, the ice had melted, the 
streams were open and smiled as they looked at the 
blue sky once more; and the forests, far and wide, in 
their green mantle, echoed every cheerful sound. 

But it is in vain that spring returns, and that the 
heart of Nature is opened in bounty, if we are not 
thankful to the Master of Life, who has preserved us 
through the winter. Nor does that man answer the 
end for which he was made who does not show a kind 
and charitable feeling to all who are in want or sick- 
ness. 

The love and harmony of Gray Eagle and his broth- 
ers continued. They never forgot each other. Every 
week, on the fourth afternoon of the week (for that was 
the time when they had found their wounded elder 

85 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

brother), they had a meeting in the hollow of the old 
sycamore tree, when they talked over family matters 
and advised with each other about their affairs, as 
brothers should. 




86 






VI 
HE OF THE LITTLE SHELL 

ONCE upon a time, all the people of a certain coun- 
try had died, excepting two helpless children, a 
baby boy and a little girl. 

"When their parents died, these children were asleep. 
The little girl, who was the elder, was the first to 
awake. She looked around her, but seeing nobody but 
her little brother, who lay smiling in his dreams, she 
quietly resumed her bed. 

At the end of ten days her brother moved, without 
opening his eyes. 

At the end of ten days more he changed his position, 
lying on the other side, and in this way he kept on 
sleeping for a long time ; and pleasant, too, must have 
been his dreams, for his little sister never looked at 
him that he was not quite a little heaven of smiles and 
flashing lights, which beamed about his head and filled 
the lodge with a strange splendor. 

The girl soon grew to be a woman, but the boy in- 
creased in stature very slowly. It was a long time be- 
fore he could even creep, and he was well advanced in 
years before he could stand alone. When he was able 

87 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

to walk, his sister made him a little bow and arrows, 
and hung around his neck a small shell, saying : 

"You shall be called Dais-Imid, or He of the Little 
Shell." 

Every day he would go out with his bow, shooting at 
the small birds. The first bird he killed was a tom-tit. 
His sister was highly pleased when he took it to her. 
She carefully prepared and stuffed it, and put it away 
for him. 

The next day he killed a red squirrel. His sister 
preserved this, too. The third day he killed a par- 
tridge, and this they had for their evening meal. 

After this he acquired more courage and would 
venture some distance from home. His skill and suc- 
cess daily increased, and he killed the deer, bear, 
moose, and other large animals inhabiting the forest. 

At last, although so very small of stature, he became 
a great hunter, and all that he shot he brought home 
and shared with his sister; and whenever he entered 
the lodge, a light beamed about his head and filled the 
place with a strange splendor. 

He had now arrived at the years of manhood, but he 
still remained a perfect infant in size. 

One day, walking about in quest of game, he came to 
a small lake. 

It was in the winter season; and upon the ice of the 
lake he saw a man of giant height, employed in killing 
beavers. 

Comparing himself with this great man, he felt that 



HE OF THE LITTLE SHELL 

he was no bigger than an insect. He seated himself on 
the shore and watched his movements. 

When the large man had killed many beavers, he put 
them on a hand-sled which he had, and pursued his way 
home. When he saw him retire, the dwarf hunter fol- 
lowed, and, wielding his magic shell, he cut off the tail 
of one of the beavers and ran home with the prize. 

The giant, on reaching his lodge with his sled-load 
of beavers, was surprised to find one of them shorn of 
its tail. 

The next day the little hero of the shell went to the 
same lake. The giant, who had been busy there for 
some time, had already loaded his sled and commenced 
his return; but running nimbly forward and overtak- 
ing him, Dais-Imid succeeded in securing another of 
the beaver-tails. 

"I wonder,' ' said the giant, on reaching his lodge 
and overlooking his beavers, "what dog it is that has 
thus cheated me. Could I meet him, I would make his 
flesh quiver at the point of my javelin. ' ' 

The giant forgot that he had taken without permis- 
sion these very beavers out of a beaver-dam which be- 
longed to the little shell-man and his sister. 

The next day he pursued his hunting at the beaver- 
dam near the lake, and he was again followed by the lit- 
tle man with the shell. 

This time the giant was so nimble in his movements 
that he had nearly reached home before Little Shell 
could overtake him ; but making his best speed, he was 
89 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

just in time to clip another beaver's tail before the 
sled slipped into the lodge. 

The giant would have been a patient giant, indeed, 
if his anger had not been violent at these constant 
tricks played upon him. What vexed him most, was, 
that he could not get sight of his enemy. Sharp eyes 
he would have needed to do so, inasmuch as He of the 
Little Shell had the gift of making himself invisible 
whenever he chose. 

The giant, giving vent to his feelings with many loud 
rumbling words, looked sharply around to see whether 
he could discover any tracks. He could find none. 
The unknown had stepped too lightly to leave the 
slightest mark behind. 

The next day the giant resolved to disappoint his 
mysterious follower by going to the beaver-dam very 
early; and accordingly, when Dais-Imid came to the 
place, he found the fresh traces of his work, but the 
giant had already gone away. He followed hard upon 
his tracks but failed to overtake him. When He of the 
Little Shell came in sight of the lodge, the stranger 
was in front of it, employed in skinning his beavers. 

As Dais-Imid stood looking at him — he had been all 
this time invisible — he thought : 

"I will let him have a view of me." 

Presently the man, who proved to be no less a per- 
sonage than the celebrated giant, Manabozho, looked 
up and saw him. After regarding him with attention, 
he said: 

90 



HE OF THE LITTLE SHELL 

"Who are you, little man? I have a mind to kill 
you." 

The little hero of the shell replied : 

"If you were to try to kill me you could not do it." 

With this speech of the little man, Manabozho 
grabbed at him ; but when he thought to have had him 
in his hand, Little Shell was gone. 

" Where are you now, little man?" cried Mana- 
bozho. 

"Here, under your girdle," answered the shell- 
dwarf. At which giant Manabozho, thinking to crush 
him, slapped down his great hand with all his might; 
but on unloosing his girdle he was disappointed at find- 
ing no dwarf there. 

"Where are you now, little man?" he cried again, 
in a greater rage than ever. 

i ' In your right nostril ! ' ' the dwarf replied. Where- 
upon the giant Manabozho seized himself by the finger 
and thumb at the place, and gave it a violent tweak; 
but as he immediately heard the voice of the dwarf at 
a distance upon the ground, he was satisfied that he 
had only pulled his own nose to no purpose. 

"Good-bye, Manabozho," said the voice of the invis- 
ible dwarf. "Count your beaver-tails, and you will 
find that I have taken another for my sister"; for He 
of the Little Shell never, in his wanderings or pas- 
times, forgot his sister and her wishes. "Good-bye, 
beaver-man ! ' ' 

And as he went away he made himself visible once 

91 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

more, and a light beamed about his head and lit the air 
around him with a strange splendor; a circumstance 
which Manabozho, who was at times quite thick-headed 
and dull of apprehension, could in no way understand. 

When Dais-Imid returned home, he told his sister 
that the time drew nigh when they must separate. 

"I must go away," said Dais-Imid, "it is my fate. 
You, too," he added, "must go away soon. Tell me 
where you would wish to dwell. ' ' 

She said, "I would like to go to the place of the 
breaking of daylight. I have always loved the East. 
The earliest glimpses of light are from that quarter, 
and it is to my mind the most beautiful part of the 
heavens. After I get there, my brother, whenever you 
see the clouds, in that direction, of various colors, you 
may think that your sister is painting her face." 

"And I," said he, "I, my sister, shall live on the 
mountains and rocks. There I can see you at the 
earliest hour; there the streams of water run clear; 
the air is pure; and the golden lights will shine ever 
around my head. I shall ever be called 'Puck-Ininee, 
or the Little Wild Man of the Mountains.' But," he 
resumed, " before we part forever, I must go and try 
to find what manitoes rule the earth, and see which of 
them will be friendly to us. ' ' 

He left his sister and traveled over the surface of 
the globe, and then went far down into the earth. 

He had been treated well wherever he went. But 
at last he came to a giant manito, who had a large ket- 

02 



HE OF THE LITTLE SHELL 

tie which was forever boiling. The giant, who was a 
first cousin to Manabozho, and had already heard of 
the tricks which Dais-Imid had played upon his kins- 
man, regarded him with a stern look, and, catching him 
up in his hand, threw him unceremoniously into the 
kettle. 

It was evidently the giant 's intention to drown Dais- 
Imid. In this he was unsuccessful, for by means of 
his magic shell, little Dais, in less than a second's time, 
bailed the water to the bottom, leaped from the kettle, 
and ran away unharmed. 

He returned to his sister and related his rovings and 
adventures. He finished his story by addressing her 
thus: 

"My sister, there is a manito at each of the four 
corners of the earth. There is also one above them, 
far in the sky, a Great Being who assigns to you and 
to me and to all of us, where we must go. And last," 
he continued, "there is another and wicked one who 
lives deep down in the earth. It will be our lot to 
escape out of his reach. We must now separate. 
When the winds blow from the four corners of the 
earth, you must then go. They will carry you to the 
place you wish. I go to the rocks and mountains, 
where my kindred will ever delight to dwell. ' ' 

Dais-Imid then took his ball-stick and commenced 
running up a high mountain; a bright light shone 
about his head all the way, and he kept singing as he 
went: 

93 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

Blow, winds, blow! my sister lingers 

For her dwelling in the sky, 
Where the morn, with rosy fingers, 

Shall her cheeks with vernal dye. 

There my earliest views directed, 

Shall from her their color take, 
And her smiles, through clouds reflected, 

Guide me on by wood or lake. 

"While I range the highest mountains, 

Sport in valleys green and low, 
Or, beside our Indian fountains, 

Eaise my tiny hip-hallo. 

His voice rose faintly and more faint, and at last the 
maiden was alone. 

Bnt presently the winds blew, and, as Dais-Imid had 
predicted, his sister was borne by them to the eastern 
sky, where she has ever since lived, and her name is 
now the Morning Star. 



pi 



VII 
OSSEO, THE SON OF THE EVENING STAR 

THEEE once lived an Indian in the north who had 
ten daughters, all of whom grew up to woman- 
hood. They were noted for their beauty, especially 
Oweenee, the youngest, who was very independent in 
her way of thinking. She was a great admirer of 
romantic places and spent much of her time with the 
flowers and winds and clouds in the open air. It mat- 
tered not to her that the flower was homely, if it was 
fragrant — that the winds were rough, if they were 
healthful — and that the clouds were dark, if they em- 
bosomed the fruitful rain; she knew how, in spite of 
appearances, to acknowledge the good qualities con- 
cealed from the eye. 

Her elder sisters were all sought in marriage, and 
one after another went off to dwell in the lodges of 
their husbands. But Oweenee paid very little atten- 
tion to the many handsome young men who came to 
her father 's lodge for the purpose of seeing her. She 
was deaf to all proposals, till at last to the great sur- 
prise of her kinsfolk she married an old man called 
Osseo, who was scarcely able to walk, and who was too 

95 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

poor to have things like other people. The only prop- 
erty he owned in the world was the walking-staff which 
he carried in his hand. But though thus poor and 
homely, Osseo was a devout and good man, faithful in 
all his duties, and obedient in all things to the Good 
Spirit. Of course they jeered and laughed at Oweenee 
on all sides, but she seemed to be quite happy, and said 
to them: 

"It is my choice and you will see in the end who has 
acted the wisest." 

They made a special mock of the walking-staff, and 
scarcely an hour in the day passed that they had not 
some disparaging reference to make to it. Among 
themselves they spoke of " Osseo of the walking-staff," 
in derision, as one might speak of "the owner of the 
big woods," or "the great timberman." 

"True," said Oweenee, "it is but a simple stick; but 
as it supports the steps of my husband, it is more pre- 
cious to me than all the forests of the north. ' ' 

A time came when the sisters and their husbands 
and their parents were all invited to a feast. As the 
distance was considerable, they doubted whether Osseo, 
so aged and feeble, would be able to undertake the 
journey; but in spite of their friendly doubts, he joined 
them and set out with a good heart. 

As they walked along the path they could not help 
pitying their young and handsome sister who had such 
an unsuitable mate. She, however, smiled upon Osseo, 

90 



OSSEO, SON OF THE EVENING STAR 

and kept with him on the way the same as if he had 
been the comeliest bridegroom in all the company. 
Osseo often stopped and gazed upward; but the others 
could perceive nothing in the direction in which he 
looked, unless it was the faint glimmering of the even- 
ing star. They heard him muttering to himself as they 
went along, and one of the elder sisters caught the 
words : 

"Pity me, my father!" 

"Poor old man," said she, "he is talking to his 
father. What a pity it is that he would not fall and 
break his neck, that our sister might have a young- 
husband." 

Presently as they came to a great rock where Osseo 
had been used to breathe his morning and his evening 
prayer, the star emitted a brighter ray, which shone 
directly in his face. Osseo, with a sharp cry, fell 
trembling to the earth, where the others would have 
left him. But his good wife raised him up, whereupon 
he sprang forward on the path, and with steps light as 
the reindeer's he led the party, no longer decrepit and 
infirm, but a beautiful young man. All were delighted, 
but when they turned around to look for his wife, be- 
hold ! she had become changed at the same moment into 
an aged and feeble woman, bent almost double, and 
walking with the staff which he had cast aside. 

Osseo immediately joined her, and with looks of 
fondness and the tenderest regard bestowed on her 

97 



THE IXDIAX FAIRY BOOK 

every endearing attention, and constantly addressed 
her bj* the term of "De-ne-nioosh-a," or "my sweet- 
heart. " 

As they walked along, whenever they were not gazing 
fondly in each other's faces they bent their looks on 
heaven, and a light, as if of far-off stars, was in their 
eyes. 

On arriving at the lodge of the hunter with whom 
they were to feast, they found the banquet ready, and 
as soon as their entertainer had finished his harangue 
— in which he told them his feasting was in honor of 
the Evening or Woman's Star — they began to partake 
of the portion dealt out to each one of the guests, ac- 
cording to age and character. The food was very 
delicious, and they were all happy but Osseo, who 
looked at his wife and then gazed upward, as if he 
were still looking into the substance of the sky. Then 
sounds were heard, as if from far-off voices in the air, 
and they became plainer and plainer, till he could 
clearly distinguish some of the words. 

"My son, my son," said the voice, "I have seen your 
afflictions, and pity your wants. I come to call you 
away from a scene that is stained with blood and tears. 
The earth is full of sorrows. Wicked spirits, the 
enemies of mankind, walk abroad and lie in wait to 
ensnare the children of the sky. Every night they are 
lifting their voices to the Power of Evil, and every day 
they make themselves busy in casting mischief in the 
hunter's path. You have long been their victim, but 



OSSEO, SON OF THE EVENING STAR 

you shall be their victim no more. The spell you were 
under is broken. Your evil genius is overcome. I 
have cast him down by my superior strength, and it is 
this strength I now exert for your happiness. Ascend, 
my son ; ascend into the skies, and partake of the feast 
I have prepared for you in the stars, and bring with 
you those you love. 

"The food set before you is enchanted and blessed. 
Fear not to partake of it. It is endowed with magic 
power to give immortality to mortals and to change 
men to spirits. Your bowls and kettles shall no longer 
be wood and earth. The one shall become silver, and 
the other pure gold. They shall shine like fire, and 
glisten like the most beautiful scarlet. Every maiden 
shall also change her state and looks, and no longer be 
doomed to laborious tasks. She shall put on the beauty 
of the star-light and become a shining bird of the air. 
She shall dance and not work. She shall sing, and not 
cry. 

"My beams,' ' continued the voice, "shine faintly 
on your lodge, but they have power to transform it 
into the lightness of the skies and decorate it with the 
colors of the clouds. Come, Osseo, my son, and dwell 
no longer on earth. Think strongly on my words and 
look steadfastly at my beams. My power is now at its 
height. Doubt not, delay not. It is the voice of the 
Spirit of the Evening Star that calls you away to 
happiness and celestial rest." 

The words were clear to Osseo, but his companions 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

thought them some far-off sounds of music, or birds 
singing in the woods. Very soon the lodge began to 
shake and tremble, and they felt it rising into the air. 
It was too late to run out, for they were already as high 
as the tops of the trees. Osseo looked around him as 
the lodge passed through the topmost boughs, and be- 
hold, their wooden dishes were changed into shells of 
a scarlet color, the poles of the lodge to glittering rods 
of silver, and the bark that covered them into the 
gorgeous wings of insects. 

A moment more and his brothers and sisters, and 
their parents and friends, were transformed into birds 
of various plumage. Some were jays, some par- 
tridges and pigeons, and others gay singing birds, who 
hopped about displaying their many-colored feathers 
and singing songs of cheerful note. 

But his wife, Oweenee, still kept her earthly garb 
and showed all the signs of extreme old age. He again 
cast his eyes in the direction of the clouds and uttered 
the peculiar cry which had given him the victory at 
the rock. In a moment the youth and beauty of his 
wife returned; her dingy garments assumed the shin- 
ing appearance of green silk, and her staff was changed 
into a silver feather. 

The lodge again shook and trembled, for they were 
now passing through the uppermost clouds, and they 
immediately afterward found themselves in the Even- 
ing Star, the residence of Osseo 's father. 

' ' My son, ' ' said the old man, ' ' leave the cage of birds 
100 



OSSEO, SON OF THE EVENING STAR 

at the door of the lodge. Then enter, and I will inform 
you why yon and your wife have been sent for. ' ' 

Osseo obeyed, and then took his seat in the lodge. 

"Pity was shown to you," resumed the King of the 
Star, "on account of the contempt of your wife's sis- 
ters, who laughed at her ill fortune and ridiculed you 
while you were under the power of that wicked spirit 
whom you overcame at the rock. That spirit lives in 
the next lodge, the small star you see on the left of 
mine. He has always felt envious of my family be- 
cause we had greater power, and especially that we had 
committed to us the care of the female world. He 
failed in many attempts to destroy your brothers and 
sisters-in-law, but succeeded at last in transforming 
yourself and your wife into decrepit old persons. You 
must be careful and not let the light of his beams fall 
on you, while you are here, for therein lies the power 
of his enchantment. A ray of light is the bow and 
arrow he uses." 

Osseo and Oweenee lived happy and contented in the 
parental lodge, and in the course of time had a son, 
who grew up rapidly and in the very likeness of Osseo 
himself. He was very quick and ready in learning 
everything that was done in his grandfather's domin- 
ions, but he wished also to learn the art of hunting, for 
he had heard that this was a favorite pursuit below. 
To gratify him, his father made him a bow and arrows 
and then let the birds out of the cage that he might 
practise shooting. In this pastime he soon became ex- 
101 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

pert, and the very first day he brought down a bird; 
but when he went to pick it up, to his amazement it was 
a beautiful young woman, with the arrow sticking in 
her breast. It was one of his younger aunts. 

The moment her blood fell upon the surface of that 
pure and spotless planet, the charm was dissolved. 
The boy immediately found himself sinking, although 
he was partly upheld by something like wings until he 
had passed through the lower clouds. He then sud- 
denly dropped upon a high, breezy island in a large 
lake. He was pleased, on looking up, to see all his 
aunts and uncles following him in the form of birds, 
and he soon discovered the silver lodge descending 
with his father and mother, its waving tassels flutter- 
ing like so many insects' gilded wings. It rested on 
the loftiest cliffs of the island, and there they fixed 
their residence. They all resumed their natural 
shapes, but they were diminished to the size of fairies ; 
and as a mark of homage to the King of the Evening 
Star, they never failed on every pleasant evening dur- 
ing the summer season to join hands and dance upon 
the top of the rocks. These rocks were quickly ob- 
served by the Indians to be covered, on moonlight 
evenings, with a larger sort of Ininees, or little men. 
They called them Mish-in-e-mok-in-ok-ong, or Little 
Spirits, and the island is named from them to this 
day. 

Their shining lodge can be seen in the summer even- 
ings, when the moon beams strongly on the pinnacles 

102 



OSSEO, SON OF THE EVENING STAR 

of the rocks ; and the fishermen who go near those high 
cliffs at night have even heard the voices of the happy 
little dancers. And Osseo and his wife, as fondly at- 
tached to each other as ever, always lead the dance. 




103 



VIII 
THE WONDERFUL EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

A MAN of small stature found himself standing 
alone on a prairie. He thought to himself : 

"How came I here? Are there no beings on this 
earth but myself? I must travel and see. I must walk 
till I find the abodes of men." 

So soon as his mind was made up, he set out, he knew 
not whither, in search of habitations. He was a reso- 
lute little fellow, and no difficulties could turn him from 
his purpose; neither prairies, rivers, woods nor storms 
had the effect to daunt his courage or turn him back. 
After traveling a long time he came to a wood, in 
which he saw decayed stumps of trees looking as if they 
had been cut in ancient times, but aside from that no 
other trace of men. Pursuing his journey, he found 
more recent marks of the same kind; after this he 
came upon fresh traces of human beings; first their 
footsteps, and then the wood they had felled, lying in 
heaps. Pushing on, he emerged toward dusk from the 
forest and beheld at a distance a large village of high 
lodges standing on rising ground. 

"I am tired of this dog-trot," he said to himself. 
"I will arrive there on a run." 

104 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

He started off with all his speed. On coming to the 
first lodge he jumped over it, without any special exer- 
tion, and found himself standing by the door on the 
other side. Those within saw something pass over the 
opening in the roof; they thought from the shadow it 
cast that it must have been some huge bird — and then 
they heard a thump upon the ground. 

"What is that?" they all said and several ran out 
to see. 

They invited him in, and he found himself in com- 
pany with an old chief and several men who were 
seated in the lodge. Meat was set before him; after 
which the old chief asked him whither he was going 
and what was his name. He answered that he was in 
search of adventures and that his name was "Grass- 
hopper. ' ' 

They all opened their eyes upon the stranger with a 
broad stare. 

"Grasshopper!" whispered one to another; and a 
general titter went round. 

They invited him to stay with them, which he was 
inclined to do; for it was a pleasant village, but so 
small as constantly to embarrass Grasshopper. He 
was in perpetual trouble; whenever he shook hands 
with a stranger, to whom he might be introduced, such 
was the abundance of his strength that, without mean- 
ing it he wrung his arm off at the shoulder. Once or 
twice, in mere sport, he cuffed the boys by the side of 
the head, and they flew out of sight as though they had 

105 



THE INDIAX FAIRY BOOK 

been shot from a bow; nor could they ever be found 
again, though they were searched for in all the country 
round, far and wide. If Grasshopper proposed to him- 
self a short stroll in the morning, he was at once miles 
out of town. When he entered a lodge, if he happened 
for a moment to forget himself, he walked straight 
through the leathern, or wooden, or earthen walls, as 
if he had been merely passing through a bush. r At his 
meals he broke in pieces all the dishes, set them down 
as lightly as he would; and stretching a bit when he 
rose, it was a common thing for him to push off the top 
of the lodge. 

He wanted more elbow-room ; and after a short stay, 
in which by accidentally letting go of his strength he 
had nearly laid waste the whole place, filling it with 
demolished lodges and broken pottery and one-armed 
men, he made up his mind to go farther, taking with 
him a young man who had formed a strong attachment 
for him, and who might serve him as his pipe-bearer. 
For Grasshopper was a huge smoker, and vast clouds 
followed him wherever he went; so that people could 
say, "Grasshopper is coming!" by the mighty smoke 
he raised. 

They set out together, and when his companion was 
fatigued with walking, Grasshopper would put him for- 
ward on his journey a mile or two by giving him a cast 
in the air and lighting him in a soft place among the 
trees, or in a cool spot in a water-pond, among the 
sedges and water-lilies. At other times he would 

106 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

lighten the way by showing off a few tricks, such as 
leaping over trees, or turning round on one leg till he 
made the dust fly ; at which the pipe-bearer was might- 
ily pleased, although it sometimes happened that the 
character of these gambols frightened him. For 
Grasshopper would, without the least hint of such an 
intention, jump into the air far ahead, and it would 
cost the little pipe-bearer half a day's hard travel to 
come up with him. And then, too, the dust Grass- 
hopper raised was often so thick and heavy as com- 
pletely to bury the poor little pipe-bearer, and compel 
Grasshopper to dig diligently and with might and main 
to get him out alive. 

One day they came to a very large village, where they 
were well received. After staying in it some time (in 
the course of which Grasshopper, in a fit of abstraction, 
walked straight through the sides of three lodges with- 
out stopping to look for the door), they were informed 
of a number of wicked manitoes or spirits who lived 
at a distance, and who made it a practise to kill all who 
came to their lodge. Attempts had been made to de- 
stroy them, but they had always proved more than a 
match for such as had come out against them. 

Grasshopper determined to pay them a visit, al- 
though he was strongly advised not to do so. The 
chief of the village warned him of the great danger he 
would incur, but finding Grasshopper resolved, he said : 

"Well, if you will go, being my guest, I will send 
twenty warriors to serve you." 

107 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

Grasshopper thanked him for the offer, although he 
suggested that he thought he could get along without 
them; at which the little pipe-bearer grinned, for his 
master had never shown in that village what he could 
do, and the chief thought that Grasshopper, being little 
himself, would be likely to need twenty warriors, at 
the least, to encounter the wicked spirits with any 
chance of success. So twenty young men made their 
appearance. They set forward, and after about a 
day's journey they descried the lodge of the Manitoes. 

Grasshopper placed the warriors and his friend, the 
pipe-bearer, near enough to see all that passed, while 
he went alone to the lodge. 

As he entered, Grasshopper saw five horrid-looking 
Manitoes in the act of eating. It was the father and 
his four sons. They were really hideous to look upon. 
Their eyes were swimming low in their heads, and 
they glared about as if they were half starved. They 
offered Grasshopper something to eat, which he politely 
refused, for he had a strong suspicion that it was the 
thigh-bone of a man. 

1 ' What have you come for ? ' ' said the old one. 

"Nothing," answered Grasshopper. "Where is 
your uncle?" 

They all stared at him and answered: 

"We ate him, yesterday. What do you want?" 

"Nothing," said Grasshopper. "Where is your 
grandfather f ' ' 

108 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

They all answered, with another broad stare : 

"We ate him a week ago. Do you not wish to 
wrestle?" 

"Yes," replied Grasshopper, "I don't mind if I do 
take a turn ; but you must be easy with me, for you see 
I am very little. ' ' 

Pipe-bearer, who stood near enough to overhear the 
conversation, grinned from ear to ear when he caught 
this remark. The Manitoes answered: 

"Oh, yes, we will be easy with you." 

And as they said this they looked at one another, and 
rolled their eyes about in a dreadful manner. A hide- 
ous smile came over their faces as they whispered 
among themselves : 

"It's a pity he's so thin." Then, "You go," they 
said to the eldest brother. 

The two got ready — the Manito and Grasshopper — 
and they were soon clinched in each other 's arms for a 
deadly throw. Grasshopper knew their object — his 
death; they wanted a taste of his delicate little body, 
and he was determined they should have it, but perhaps 
in a different sense from what they intended. 

"Haw! haw!" they cried, and soon the dust and dry 
leaves flew about as if driven by a strong wind. The 
Manito was strong, but Grasshopper thought he could 
master him ; and all at once giving him a sly trip, just 
as the wicked spirit was trying to finish his breakfast 
with a piece out of his shoulder, he sent the Manito 

109 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

head-foremost against a stone; and calling aloud to the 
three others, he bade them come and take the body 
away. 

The brothers now stepped forth in quick succession, 
but Grasshopper, having got his blood up and limbered 
himself by exercise, soon dispatched the three — send- 
ing one this way, another that, and the third straight 
up into the air, so high that he never came down again. 

It was time for the old Manito to be frightened, and 
dreadfully frightened he got, and ran for his life, which 
was the very worst thing he could have done; for 
Grasshopper, of all his gifts of strength, was most 
noted for his speed of foot. The old Manito set off, 
and for mere sport's sake, Grasshopper pursued him. 
Sometimes he was before the wicked old spirit, some- 
times he was flying over his head, and then he would 
keep along at a steady trot just at his heels, till he had 
blown all the breath out of the old knave 's body. 

Meantime his friend, the pipe-bearer, and the twenty 
young warriors cried out : 

' ' Ha, ha, ha ! ha, ha, ha ! Grasshopper is driving the 
Manito before him." 

The Manito only turned his head now and then to 
look back. At length when he was tired of the sport, 
Grasshopper, to be rid of him, with a gentle applica- 
tion of his foot sent the wicked old Manito whirling 
away through the air, where he made a great number 
of the most curious turn-overs in the world till he came 
to alight. It so happened, then, that he fell astride of 
no 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

an old bull-buffalo grazing in a distant pasture, who 
straightway set off with him at a long gallop ; and the 
old Manito has not been heard of to this day. 

Then the warriors and the pipe-bearer and Grass- 
hopper set to work and burned down the lodge of the 
wicked spirits, and when they came to look about, they 
saw that the ground was strewn on all sides with human 
bones bleaching in the sun; these were the unhappy 
victims of the Manitoes. Grasshopper then took three 
arrows from his girdle, and after having performed a 
ceremony to the Great Spirit, he shot one into the air, 
crying: 

"You are lying down ; rise up, or you will be hit !" 

The bones all moved to one place. He shot the sec- 
ond arrow, repeating the same words, and each bone 
drew toward its fellow-bone. The third arrow brought 
forth to life the whole multitude of people who had 
been killed by the Manitoes. Grasshopper conducted 
the crowd to his friend, the chief of the village, and 
gave them into his hands, telling who they were and 
the manner in which they had come to life again. 
Meanwhile the twenty warriors, pipe-bearer, and all 
the people cried together : 

"Ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha! Grasshopper has killed 
the wicked Manito." 

The chief was there with his counsellors, to whom he 
spoke apart. 

"Who is more worthy to rule than you?" said the 
chief to Grasshopper. "You alone can defend us all." 
in 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

Grasshopper thanked him and told him that he was 
in search of more adventures. 

"I have done some things," said little Grasshopper, 
rather boastfully, "and I think I can do some more." 

The chief still urged him, but he was eager to go, and 
naming Pipe-bearer to tarry and take his place, Grass- 
hopper set out again on his travels, promising that he 
would some time or other come back and see them. 

"Ho! ho! ho!" they all cried. "Come back again 
and see us ! " He renewed his promise that he would ; 
and then set out alone. 

After traveling some time he came to a great lake, 
and on looking about he discovered a very large otter 
on an island. He thought to himself, "His skin will 
make me a fine pouch. ' ' And he immediately drew up 
at long shot and drove an arrow into the otter's side. 
Then he waded into the lake, and with some difficulty 
dragged him ashore and up a hill overlooking the lake. 

As soon as Grasshopper got the otter into the warm 
sunshine, he skinned him and threw the carcass some 
distance off, thinking the war-eagle would come, and 
that he would have a chance to secure his feathers as 
ornaments for the head ; for Grasshopper began to be 
proud, and was disposed to display himself. 

He soon heard a rushing noise as of a loud wind, but 
could see nothing. Presently a large eagle dropped, 
as if from the air, upon the otter's carcass. Grass- 
hopper drew his bow, and the arrow passed through 
under both of his win^s. The bird made a convulsive 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

flight upward, with such force that the cumbrous body 
was borne up several feet from the ground; but the 
heavy otter, in which the bird's claws were deeply fixed, 
brought the eagle back to the earth. Grasshopper 
possessed himself of a handful of the prime feathers, 
crowned his head with the trophy, and set off in high 
spirits on the look-out for something new. 

After walking a while, he came to a body of water 
which flooded the trees on its banks — it was a lake 
made by beavers. Taking his station on the raised 
dam where the stream escaped, he watched to see 
whether any of the beavers would show themselves. A 
head presently peeped out of the water to see who it 
was that disturbed them. 

"My friend," said Grasshopper in his most per- 
suasive manner, "could you not oblige me by turning 
me into a beaver like yourself? Nothing would please 
me so much as to make your acquaintance, I can as- 
sure you." For Grasshopper was curious to know 
how these watery creatures lived, and what kind of 
notions they had. 

"I do not know," replied the beaver, who was rather 
short-nosed and surly. "I will go and ask the others. 
Meanwhile stay where you are, if you please." 

"To be sure," answered Grasshopper, stealing down 
the bank several paces as soon as the beaver's back 
was turned. 

Presently there was a great splashing of the water, 
and all the beavers showed their heads, and looked 

113 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

warily to where lie stood, to see if lie was armed. But 
lie had knowingly left his bow and arrows in a hollow 
tree at a short distance. 

After a long conversation, which they conducted in 
a whisper so that Grasshopper could not catch a word, 
strain his ears as he would, they all advanced in a body 
toward the spot where he stood ; the chief approaching 
the nearest and lifting his head highest out of the 
water. 

"Can you not," said Grasshopper, noticing that they 
waited for him to speak first, ' ' turn me into a beaver ? 
I wish to live among you. ' ' 

"Yes," answered their chief. "Lie down." And 
Grasshopper in a moment found himself a beaver, and 
was gliding into the water, when a thought seemed to 
strike him, and he paused at the edge of the lake. 

"I am very small," he said to the beaver in a sor- 
rowful tone. "You must make me large." For 
Grasshopper was terribly ambitious and wanted al- 
ways to be the first person in every company. 
"Larger than any of you; in my present size it's 
hardly worth my while to go into the water." 

"Yes, yes!" said they. "By and by, when we get 
into the lodge it shall be done." 

They all dived into the lake, and when in passing 
great heaps of limbs and logs at the bottom, Grass- 
hopper asked their use, they answered, "For our win- 
ter's provision." 

114 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

When they all got into the lodge the number was 
about one hundred. The lodge was large and warm. 

' 'Now we will make you large," said they. Then, 
"WilHT&aJdo?" 

"Yes," he answered; for he found that he was ten 
times the size of the largest. 

"You need not go out," said the others. "We will 
bring you food into the lodge, and you will be our 
chief." 

"Very well," Grasshopper answered. He thought, 
"I will stay here and grow fat at their expense." 

But, soon after, one of them ran into the lodge out 
of breath, crying out : 

"We are visited by the Indians!" 

All huddled together in great fear. The water be- 
gan to lower, for the hunters had broken down the 
dam, and soon they could be heard on the roof of the 
lodge, breaking it up. Out jumped all the beavers into 
the water, and so escaped. 

Grasshopper tried to follow, then to call them back ; 
but either they did not hear or would not attend to him. 
So he had to find his own way of getting out. Now, 
unfortunately, in order to gratify his ambition, the 
beavers had made him too large to crawl out of the 
hole. He wiggled and twisted in vain, and only wor- 
ried himself till the sweat stood out on his forehead in 
knobs and huge bubbles. He looked like a great blad- 
der swollen and blistered in the sun. 

115 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

Although he heard and understood every word that 
the hunters spoke — and some of their expressions sug- 
gested terrible ideas — he could not turn himself back 
into a man. He had chosen to be a beaver, and a 
beaver he must be. One of the hunters, a prying little 
man with. a single lock dangling over one eye, put his 
head in at the top of the lodge. 

"Ty-au!" cried he. "Tut ty-au! Me-shau-mik— 
king of beavers is in.' , Whereupon the whole crowd 
of hunters began upon him with their clubs, and 
knocked his skull about until it was no harder than a 
morass in the middle of summer. Grasshopper 
thought as well as ever he did, although he was inhab- 
iting the carcass of a beaver; and he felt that he was 
in a rather foolish scrape. 

Presently seven or eight of the hunters hoisted his 
body upon long poles and marched away home with 
him. As they went, he reflected in this manner : 

"What will become of me? My ghost or shadow 
will not die after they get me to their lodges. So per- 
haps then I will be free again. " 

Invitations were immediately sent out for a grand 
feast. But as soon as Grasshopper's body got cold, 
his soul flew off, being uncomfortable in a house with- 
out heat. 

Having reassumed his mortal shape, Grasshopper 
found himself standing near a prairie. After walking 
a distance, he saw a herd of elk feeding. He admired 
their apparent ease and enjoyment of life, and thought 

11G 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

there could be nothing more pleasant than the liberty 
of running abont and feeding on the prairies. He had 
been a water animal and now he wished to become a 
land animal, to learn what passed in an elk's head as 
he roved about. So he asked them if they could not 
turn him into one of themselves. 

"Yes," they answered, after a pause. "Get down 
on your hands and feet." 

He obeyed their directions and forthwith found him- 
self an elk. 

"I want big horns, big feet," said he. "I wish to 
be very large. ' ' For all the conceit and vain-glory had 
not been knocked out of Grasshopper, even by the 
sturdy thwacks of the hunters' clubs. 

"Yes, yes," they answered. "There," exerting 
their power, "are you big enough ?" 

"That will do," he replied, for, looking into a lake 
hard by, Grasshopper saw that he was very large. 

The elk spent their time in grazing and running to 
and fro; but what astonished Grasshopper was that 
although he often lifted up his head and directed his 
eyes that way, he could never see the stars, which he 
had so admired as a human being. 

Being rather cold one day, Grasshopper went into a 
thick wood for shelter, whither he was followed by 
most of the herd. They had not been long there when 
some elks from behind passed the others like a strong 
wind, calling out: 

"The hunters are after us!" 

117 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

All took the alarm, and off they ran, Grasshopper 
with the rest. 

"Keep out on the plains," they said. But it was 
too late to profit by this advice, for they had already 
got entangled in the thick woods. Grasshopper soon 
scented the hunters, who were closely following his 
trail, for they had left all the other elk and were mak- 
ing after him in full cry. He jumped furiously, 
dashed through the underwood, and broke down whole 
groves of saplings in his flight. But this only made it 
the harder for him to get on, such a huge and lusty elk 
was he by his own request. 

Presently, as he dashed past an open space, he felt 
an arrow in his side. They could not well miss him, 
he presented so wide a mark to the shot. He bounded 
over trees under the smart, but the shafts clattered 
thicker and thicker at his ribs, and at last one entered 
his heart. He fell to the ground, and heard the whoop 
of triumph sounded by the hunters. On coming up, 
they looked on the carcass with astonishment, and with 
their hands up to their mouths, exclaimed : 

"Ty-au! ty-au!" 

There were about sixty in the party, which had come 
out on a special hunt, as one of their number the day 
before had observed his large tracks on the plains. 
Now they were highly elated at having caught this 
giant elk and immediately set about dividing the spoils. 
But as soon as the skin was removed, the flesh grew 
cold. His spirit took its flight from the dead body, 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

and Grasshopper found himself again in human shape, 
with a bow and arrows. 

But his passion for adventure was not yet cooled; 
for on coming to a large lake with a sandy beach, he 
saw a large flock of brant. Speaking to them in the 
brant language, he requested them to make a brant of 
him. 

"Yes," they replied a.t once, for the brant is a bird 
of a very obliging disposition. 

"But I want to be very large," he said. There was 
no end to the ambition of little Grasshopper. 

"Very well," they answered, and he soon found him- 
self a large brant, all the others standing gazing in 
astonishment at his great size. 

"You must fly as leader," they said. 

"No," answered Grasshopper, "I will fly behind." 

"Very well," rejoined the brant. "One thing more 
we have to say to you, brother Grasshopper. You 
must be careful, in flying, not to look down, or some- 
thing may happen to you." 

"Well, it is so," said he; and soon the flock rose up 
into the air, for they were bound north. They flew 
very fast — he behind. 

One day, while going with a strong wind and as 
swiftly as their wings could flap, they passed over a 
large village. The Indians raised a great shout on see- 
ing them, particularly on Grasshopper's account, for 
his wings were broader than two large mats. The vil- 
lage people made such a frightful noise that he forgot 

119 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

what had been told him about looking down. They 
were now scudding along as swift as arrows; and as 
soon as he brought his neck in and stretched it down to 
look at the shouters, his huge tail was caught by the 
wind, and over and over he was blown. He tried to 
right himself, but without success, for he had no sooner 
got out of one heavy air-current than he fell into an- 
other, which treated him even more rudely than that 
which he had escaped from. Down, down he went, 
making more turns than he wished for, from a height 
of several miles. 

The first moment he had to look about him, Grass- 
hopper, in the shape of a big brant, was aware that he 
was jammed into a large hollow tree. To get backward 
or forward was out of the question, and there, in spite 
of himself, was Grasshopper forced to tarry till his 
brant life was ended by starvation, when, his spirit 
being at liberty, he was once more a human being. 

As he journeyed on in search of further adventures, 
Grasshopper came to a lodge in which were two old 
men, with heads white from extreme age. They were 
very fine old men to look at. There was such sweet- 
ness and innocence in their features that Grasshopper 
was very glad to accept their invitation to enter the 
lodge and tarry a while. 

They treated him well, and when he made known to 

them that he was going back to his village, his friends 

and people, the two white-headed old men very heartily 

wished him a good journey and abundance of comfort 

120 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

in seeing his friends once more. They even arose, old 
and infirm as they were, and tottering with exceeding 
difficulty to the door, were at great pains to point out 
to him the exact course he should take ; and called his 
attention to the circumstance that it was much shorter 
and more direct than the one he would have taken him- 
self. Ah! what merry deceivers were these two old 
men with very white heads. 

Grasshopper, with blessings showered on him until 
he was fairly out of sight, set forth with good heart. 
He thought he heard loud laughter resounding after 
him in the direction of the lodge ; but it could not have 
been the two old men, for they were, certainly, too old 
to laugh. 

He walked briskly all day, and at night he had the 
satisfaction of reaching a lodge in all respects like that 
which he had left in the morning. There were two 
more fine old men, and his treatment was in every par- 
ticular the same, even down to the parting blessing and 
the laughter that followed him as he went his way. 

After walking the third day and coming to a lodge 
the same as before, he was satisfied from the bearings 
of the course he had taken and by a notch which he had 
cut in the door-post, that he had been journeying in a 
circle, that these were the same two old men, all along, 
and that, despite their innocent faces and their very 
white heads, they had been playing him a sorry trick. 

"Who are you," said Grasshopper, "to treat me so? 
Come forth, I say." 

121 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

They were compelled to obey his summons, lest, in 
his anger, he should take their lives ; and they appeared 
on the outside of the lodge. 

"We must have a little trial of speed, now," said 
Grasshopper. 

"A race?" they asked. "We are very old; we can- 
not run." 

"We will see," said Grasshopper. Whereupon he 
set them out upon the road and gave them a gentle 
push, which put them in motion. Then he pushed them 
again — harder — harder — until they got under fine head- 
way, when he gave each of them an astounding shock 
with his foot, and off they flew at a great rate, round 
and round the course; and such was the magic virtue 
of the foot of Grasshopper, that no object once set 
a-going by it could by any possibility stop ; so that, for 
aught we know to the contrary, the two innocent, white- 
headed, merry old men are trotting to this day, with 
all their might and main around the circle in which they 
beguiled Grasshopper. 

Continuing his journey, Grasshopper, although his 
head was warm and buzzing with all sorts of schemes, 
did not know exactly what to do until he came to a big 
lake. He mounted a high hill to try and see to the 
other side, but he could not. He then made a canoe 
and sailed forth. The water was very clear — a trans- 
parent blue — and he saw that it abounded with fish of 
a rare and delicate complexion. This circumstance in- 
spired him with a wish to return to his own village, so 
122 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

that he might bring his people to live near this beauti- 
ful lake. 

Toward evening, coming to a woody island, he en- 
camped and ate the fish he had speared, and they 
proved to be as comforting to the stomach as they were 
pleasing to the eye. The next day Grasshopper re- 
turned to the mainland, and as he wandered along the 
shore he espied at a distance the celebrated giant, 
Manabozho, who is a bitter enemy of Grasshopper and 
loses no opportunity to stop him on his journeyings 
and to thwart his plans. 

At first it occurred to Grasshopper to have a trial of 
wits with the giant, but on second thoughts he said to 
himself, "I am in a hurry now; I will see him another 
time." 

With no further mischief than raising a great whirl- 
wind of dust, which caused Manabozho to rub his eyes 
severely, Grasshopper quietly slipped out of the way; 
and he made good speed withal, for in much less time 
than you could count half the stars in the sky of a win- 
ter night, he had reached home. 

His return was welcomed with a great hubbub of 
feasting and songs ; and he had scarcely set foot in the 
village before he had invitations to take pot-luck at 
different lodges, and ate enough to have lasted him the 
rest of his natural life. Pipe-bearer, who had some 
time before given up the cares of a ruler and fallen 
back upon his native place, fairly danced with joy at 
the sight of Grasshopper, who, not to be outdone, dan- 

123 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

died him affectionately in his arms by casting him up 
and down in the air half a mile or so, till little Pipe- 
bearer had no breath left in his body to say that he 
was happy to see Grasshopper home again. 

Grasshopper gave the village folks a lively account 
of his adventures, and when he came to the blue lake 
and the abundant fish, he dwelt upon their charms with 
such effect that they agreed, with one voice, that it must 
be a glorious place to live in, and if he would show them 
the way they would shift camp and settle there at once. 

He not only showed them the way, but bringing his 
wonderful strength and speed of foot to bear, in less 
than half a day he had transported the whole village, 
with its children, women, tents, and implements of war, 
to the new water-side. 

Here, for a time, Grasshopper appeared to be con- 
tent, until one day a message was brought him by a 
bear, who said that their king wished to see him im- 
mediately at his village. Grasshopper was ready in an 
instant; and mounting upon the messenger's back, off 
he went. Toward evening they climbed a high moun- 
tain and came to a cave where the bear-king lived. He 
was a very large person; and puffing with fat and a 
sense of his own importance, he made Grasshopper wel- 
come by inviting him into his lodge. 

As soon as it was proper, the king spoke, and said 
that he had sent for him on hearing that he was the 
chief who was moving a large party into the bears' 



1-2.1 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

"You must know," said the bear-king with a terrible 
growl, "that you have no right there, and I wish you 
would leave the country with your party, or else the 
strongest force will take possession. This I say." 

"Very well," replied Grasshopper, going toward the 
door, for he suspected that the king of the bears was 
preparing to give him a hug. " So be it. ' ' 

He wished to gain time and to consult his people ; for 
he had seen as he came along that the bears were gath- 
ering in great force on the side of the mountain. He 
also made known to the bear-king that he would go 
back that night so that his people might be put in im- 
mediate possession of the royal behest. 

The bear-king replied that Grasshopper might do as 
he pleased, but that one of his young men was at his 
command ; so jumping nimbly on his back, Grasshopper 
rode home. 

He assembled the people and ordered the bear's head 
off, to be hung outside of the village, that the bear spies, 
who were lurking in the neighborhood, might see it 
and carry the news to their chief. 

The next morning, by break of day, Grasshopper had 
all of his young warriors under arms and ready for a 
fight. And none too soon, for about the middle of the 
afternoon the bear war-party came in sight, led on by 
the fat king. The bears advanced on their hind-legs, 
making a tremendous noise, and a very imposing dis- 
play of their teeth and eyeballs. 

The bear-chief himself came forward, and with a 

125 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

majestic wave of his right hand, said that he did not 
wish to shed the blood of the young warriors ; but that 
if Grasshopper consented, they two would have a race. 
The winner should kill the losing chief, and all his 
young men should be servants to the other. 

Grasshopper agreed, of course — how little Pipe- 
bearer, who stood by, grinned as they came to terms ! — 
and they started to run before the whole company of 
warriors who stood in a circle looking on. 

At first there was a prospect that Grasshopper would 
be badly beaten; for although he kept crowding the 
great fat bear-king till the sweat trickled from his 
shaggy ears, he never seemed to be able to push past 
him. But by and by, Grasshopper, going through a 
number of the most extraordinary maneuvers in the 
world, raised about the great fat bear-king such eddies 
and whirlwinds of sand, and so danced about, before 
and after him, that the king at last got fairly bewil- 
dered, and cried out for mercy. But Grasshopper still 
went on and reached the goal where he only waited for 
the bear-king to come up to drive an arrow through 
him. And now in fulfilment of the agreement the bears 
must become servants, and Grasshopper ordered them 
to take the body off and prepare it for supper. 

"I am hungry," he said, "and would hold a great 
feast to celebrate our victory." 

All the bears had to help, and although bound to act 
becomingly according to the forfeit, they made many a 
wry face as they carved up the body of their late royal 

126 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

master. And either by accident or design they fell 
into many cnrious blunders. One sprightly young fel- 
low of an inquisitive turn of mind was found upon the 
roof of the lodge, with his head half-way down the 
smoke-hole, with a view to learn what they were to have 
for dinner. Another, a middle-aged bear with very 
long arms, who was put in charge of the children as 
nurse while the mothers were outside to look after the 
preparations, squeezed three or four of the most prom- 
ising young papooses to death; another, when he 
should have been waiting at the back of his master, had 
climbed a shady tree and was indulging in his after- 
noon nap. And when, at last, the dinner was ready to 
be served, they came tumbling in with the dishes, heels 
over head, one after the other, so that one-half of the 
feast was spread upon the ground, and the other half 
deposited out of doors, on the other side of the lodge. 

After a while, however, by strict discipline and 
threatening to cut off their provisions, the bear-serv- 
ants were brought into tolerable control. 

Yet Grasshopper, with his ever restless disposition, 
was uneasy; and, having done so many wonderful 
things, he resolved upon a strict and thorough reform 
in all the affairs of the village. To prevent future 
difficulty, he determined to adopt new regulations be- 
tween the bears and their masters. 

With this view, he issued an edict that henceforward 
the bears should eat at the first table, and that the 
Indians were to wait upon them; that in all public pro- 

127 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

cessions of an honorable character the bears should 
go first ; and that when any fighting was to be done, the 
Indians should have the privilege reserved of receiving 
the first shots. A special exemption was made in be- 
half of Grasshopper's favorite and confidential ad- 
viser, the Pipe-bearer, who had been very busy in pri- 
vate, recommending the new order of things. He was 
to be allowed to sit at the head of the feast, and to 
stay at home with the old women in the event of battle. 

Having seen his orders strictly enforced and the 
rights of the bears over the Indians fairly established, 
Grasshopper fixed his mind upon further adventures. 
He determined to go abroad for a time, and having an 
old score to settle with Manabozho, he set out with a 
hope of soon falling in with that famous giant. Grass- 
hopper was a blood relation of Dais-Imid, or He of the 
Little Shell, and had heard of what had passed between 
that giant and his kinsman. 

After wandering a long time he came to the lodge of 
Manabozho, who was absent. He thought he must play 
him a trick; and so he turned everything in the lodge 
upside down and killed his birds, of which there was an 
extraordinary attendance. For Manabozho is master 
of the fowls of the air, and this was the appointed 
morning for them to call and pay their court to him. 
Among the number was a raven, accounted the meanest 
of birds, which Grasshopper killed and hung up by the 
neck, as an insult. 

He then went on till he came to a very high point of 

128 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

rocks running out into the lake, from the top of which 
he could see the country, back as far as the eye could 
reach. While sitting there, Manabozho 's mountain 
chickens flew around and past him in great numbers. 
Out of mere spite to their master, Grasshopper shot 
them by the score, for his arrows were sure and the 
birds very plenty, and he amused himself by throwing 
the birds down the rocks. At length a wary bird cried 
out: 

" Grasshopper is killing us; go and tell our father." 

Away sped a delegation of the birds which were the 
quickest of wing, and Manabozho soon made his appear- 
ance on the plain below. Grasshopper, who, when he is 
in the wrong, is no match for Manabozho, made his 
escape on the other side. Manabozho, who had in two 
or three strides reached the top of the mountain, cried 
out; 

"You are a rogue. The earth is not so large but I 
can get up to you." 

Off ran Grasshopper and Manabozho after him. 
The race was sharp ; and such leaps and strides as they 
made ! Over hills and prairies with all his speed went 
Grasshopper, and Manabozho hard upon him. Grass- 
hopper had some mischievous notions still left in his 
head which he thought might befriend him. He knew 
that Manabozho was under a spell to restore whatever 
he, Grasshopper, destroyed. Forthwith he stopped 
and climbed a large pine-tree, stripped off its beautiful 
green foliage, threw it to the winds, and then went on. 

129 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

"When Manabozho reached the spot, the tree ad- 
dressed him : 

''Great chief," said the tree, "will you give me my 
life again? Grasshopper has killed me." 

"Yes," replied Manabozho, who, as quickly as he 
could, gathered the scattered leaves and branches, re- 
newed its beauty with his breath, and set off. Although 
Grasshopper in the same way compelled Manabozho 
to lose time in repairing the hemlock, the sycamore, 
cedar, and many other trees, the giant did not falter, 
but pushing briskly forward, was fast overtaking him, 
when Grasshopper happened to see an elk. Asked for 
old acquaintance ' sake, to take him on his back, the elk 
did so, and for some time made good headway, but still 
Manabozho was in sight. 

He was fast gaining upon him, when Grasshopper 
threw himself off the elk's back. Striking a great 
sandstone rock near the path, he broke it into pieces, 
and scattered the grains in a thousand directions. 
Manabozho was so close upon him at this place that he 
had almost caught him ; but the foundation of the rock, 
cried out : 

"Have! Ne-me-sho, Grasshopper has spoiled me. 
Will you not restore me to life ? ' ' 

"Yes," replied Manabozho, and re-established the 
rock in all its strength. 

He then pushed on in pursuit, and had got so near 
to Grasshopper as to put out his arm to seize him ; but 
Grasshopper dodged him, and, as his last chance, he 

130 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

immediately raised such a dust and commotion by 
whirlwinds, as made the trees break and the sand and 
leaves dance in the air. Again and again Manabozho 
stretched out his arm, but Grasshopper escaped him at 
every turn and kept up such a tumult of dust that he 
was able to dash into a hollow tree which had been 
blown down, and change himself into a snake without 
Manabozho 's seeing him. He crept out at the roots 
just in time to save his life, for at that moment Mana- 
bozho, who had the power of lightning, struck the tree, 
and it was strewn about in little pieces. 

Again Grasshopper was in human shape, and Mana- 
bozho was pressing him hard. At a distance he saw a 
very high bluff of rocks jutting out into a lake, and he 
ran for the foot of the precipice, which was abrupt and 
elevated. As he came near, to his surprise and great 
relief, the Manito of the rock opened his door and told 
Grasshopper to come in. The door was no sooner 
closed than Manabozho knocked. 

"Open it!" he cried, with a loud voice. 

The Manito was afraid of Manabozho ; but he said to 
Grasshopper : 

"Since I have taken you as my guest, I would sooner 
die with you than open the door. ' ' 

1 ' Open it ! " Manabozho again cried, in a louder voice 
than before. 

,The Manito kept silent. Manabozho, however, made 
no attempt to open it by force. He waited a few 
moments. 

131 



THE INDIAN FAIRY. BOOK 

"Very well," he said, "I give you till morning to 
live." 

Grasshopper trembled, for he thought his last hour 
had come ; but the Manito bade him to be of good cheer. 

When the night came on the clouds were thick and 
black, and as they were torn open by the lightning, such 
discharges of thunder as bellowed forth were never be- 
fore heard. The clouds advanced slowly and wrapped 
the earth about with their vast shadows as in a huge 
cloak. All night long the clouds gathered, and the 
lightning flashed, and the thunder roared, and above all 
could be heard Manabozho muttering vengeance upon 
poor little Grasshopper. 

"You have led a very foolish kind of life, Grass- 
hopper," said his friend the Manito. 

"I know it — I know it!" Grasshopper answered. 

"You had great gifts of strength awarded to you," 
said the Manito. 

"I am aware of it," replied Grasshopper. 

"Instead of employing it for useful purposes, and 
for the good of your fellow-creatures, you have done 
nothing since you became a man but raise whirlwinds 
on the highways, leap over trees, break whatever you 
met in pieces, and perform a thousand idle pranks." 

Grasshopper, with great penitence, confessed that his 
friend the Manito spoke but too truly; and at last his 
host, with a still more serious manner, said : 

"Grasshopper, you still have your gift of strength. 
Dedicate it to the good of mankind. Lay all of these 

132 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

wanton and vainglorious notions out of your head. In 
a word, be as good as you are strong. ' ' 

"I will," answered Grasshopper. "My heart is 
changed; I see the error of my ways." 

Black and stormy as it had been all night, when 
morning came the sun was shining, the air was soft 
and sweet as the summer down and the blown rose; 
and afar off upon the side of a mountain sat Mana- 
bozho, his head upon his knees, languid and cast down 
in spirit. His power was gone, for now Grasshopper 
was in the right, and he could touch him no more. 

With many thanks Grasshopper left the good Manito, 
taking the nearest way home to his own people. 

As he passed on, he fell in with an old man who was 
wandering about the country in search of some place 
which he could not find. As soon as he learned his dif- 
ficulty, Grasshopper, placing the old man upon his back, 
hurried away, and in a short hour's despatch of foot 
set him down among his own kindred, of whom he had 
been in quest. 

Losing no time, Grasshopper next came to an open 
plain where a small number of men stood at bay and on 
the very point of being attacked by many armed war- 
riors, fierce of aspect and of prodigious strength. 
When Grasshopper saw this unequal struggle, he 
rushed forward, seized a long bare pole, and, wielding 
it with his whole force, drove the fierce warriors back. 
Laying about him on every hand, he soon sent them a 
thousand ways in great haste, and in a very sore plight. 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

Without tarrying to receive the thanks of those to 
whom he had brought this timely relief, he made his 
utmost speed, and by the close of the afternoon he had 
come in sight of his own village. What were his sur- 
prise and horror, as he approached nearer, to discover 
the bears in excellent condition and flesh, seated at lazy 
leisure in the trees, looking idly on while his brother 
Indians were dancing a fantastic and wearisome dance, 
for their pastime, in the course of which they were fre- 
quently compelled to go upon all fours and bow their 
heads in profound obeisance to their bear-masters in 
the trees. 

As he drew nearer, his heart sank within him to see 
how starved and hollow-eyed and woe-begone they 
were ; and his horror was at its height when, as he en- 
tered his own lodge, he beheld his favorite and friend, 
Pipe-bearer, also on all fours, smoothing the floor with 
the palms of his hands to make it a comfortable sitting- 
place for the bears on their return from the dance. 

It did not take Grasshopper a long time to resolve 
what he should do. He immediately resumed power in 
the village, bestowed a sound cudgeling upon the bears, 
and sent them off to live in the mountains among their 
own people, as bears should ; restored to his people all 
their rights ; gave them plenty to eat and drink ; exert- 
ing his great strength in hunting, in rebuilding their 
lodges, keeping in check their enemies, and doing all 
the good he could to everybody. 

Peace and plenty soon shone and showered upon the 

134 



EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER 

spot ; and never once thinking of his wild and wanton 
frolics, the people blessed Grasshopper for all his kind- 
ness, and sincerely prayed that his name might be held 
in honor for a thousand years to come, as no doubt it 
will. 

Little Pipe-bearer stood by Grasshopper in all his 
course, and admired his ways as much now that he had 
taken to being orderly and useful, as in the old times 
when he was walking a mile a minute, and in mere wan- 
tonness bringing home whole forests in his arms for 
fire-wood, in midsummer. 

It was a great old age to which Grasshopper lived, 
and when at last he came to die, there was not a dry 
eye in all that part of the world where he spent his 
latter days. 




135 



IX 

THE TOAD-WOMAN 

GREAT good luck once happened to a young woman 
who was living all alone in the woods with nobody 
near her but her little dog; for she found fresh meat 
every morning at her door. She was much surprised 
and very curious to know who it was that supplied her. 
So she watched one morning, just as the sun had risen, 
and saw a handsome young man gliding away into the 
forest. Having seen her, he became her husband, and 
they had a son. 

One evening not long after this, he did not return as 
usual from hunting. She waited till late at night, but 
he came not at all. 

The next day she swung her child to sleep in its 
cradle, and then said to her dog, "Take care of your 
brother while I am gone, and when he cries, halloo for 
me." 

The cradle was made of the finest wampum, and all 
its bandages and ornaments were of the same precious 
stuff. 

After a short time, the woman heard the cry of the 
dog, and running home as fast as she could, she found 
her child gone, and the dog too. On looking around, 
she saw scattered upon the ground pieces of the wam- 

136 



THE TOAD-WOMAN 

pum of her child's cradle, and she knew that the dog 
had been faithful and had striven his best to save the 
babe from being carried off. 

Now the thief was an old woman from a distant 
country, called Mukakee Mindemoea, or the Toad- 
Woman. The mother hurried off at full speed in pur- 
suit of her. As she flew along, she came from time to 
time to lodges inhabited by old women, who told her at 
what time the child-thief had passed; they also gave 
her shoes that she might follow on. A number of these 
old women seemed to be prophetesses, and knew what 
was to come long beforehand. Each of them would say 
to her that when she had arrived at the next lodge, she 
must set the toes of the moccasins they had given her 
pointing homeward, and that they would then return of 
themselves. The young woman was very careful to 
send back in this manner all the shoes she borrowed. 

She thus followed in the pursuit, from valley to 
valley, and stream to stream, for many months and 
years, and at length came to the lodge of the last of 
the friendly old grandmothers, as they were called, who 
gave her final instructions how to proceed. She told 
the mother that she was near the place where her son 
was to be found ; and she directed her to build a lodge 
of cedar-boughs hard by the old Toad- Woman's lodge, 
and to make a little bark dish, and to fill it with the juice 
of the wild grape. 

"Then," she said, "your first child (meaning the 

dog) will come and find you out. ' ' 
137 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

These directions the young woman followed just as 
they had been given to her, and in a short time she 
heard her son, now grown up, going out to hunt. The 
dog was following and she called out to him, "Pee- 
waubik — Spirit-Iron — Twee ! Twee ! ' ' 

The dog came into the lodge, and she set before him 
the dish of grape-juice. 

"See, my child," she said, addressing him, "the 
pretty drink your mother gives you." 

Spirit-Iron took a long draught, and immediately 
left the lodge with his eyes wide open ; for this was the 
drink which teaches one to see the truth of things as 
they are. He rose up when he got into the open air, 
stood upon his hind-legs, and looked about. 

"I see how it is," he said; and marching off, erect as 
a man, he sought out his young master. 

Approaching him in great confidence, he bent down 
and whispered in his ear, having first looked cautiously 
around to see that no one was listening : 

"This old woman here in the lodge is no mother of 
yours. I have found your real mother, and she is 
worth looking at. When we come back from our day's 
sport, I'll prove it to you." 

They went out into the woods, and at the close of the 
afternoon they brought back a great spoil of meat of 
all kinds. Then the young man, as soon as he had laid 
aside his weapons, said to the old Toad- Woman, "Send 
some of the best of this meat to the stranger who has 
arrived lately. ' ' 

138 



THE TOAD-WOMAN 

The Toad-Woman answered, "No! Why should I 
send to her, the poor widow!" But the young man 
would not be refused ; and at last the old Toad-Woman 
consented to take something and throw it down at the 
door. 

"My son gives you this," she called out. But, being 
bewitched by Mukakee Mindemoea, the meat was so bit- 
ter and distasteful that the young woman immediately 
cast it out of the lodge after her. 

In the evening the young man paid the stranger a 
visit at her lodge of cedar-boughs. She then told him 
that she was his real mother, and that he had been 
stolen away from her by the old Toad-Woman, who was 
a child-thief and a witch. As the young man appeared 
to doubt, she said to him: "Feign yourself sick when 
you go home to her lodge ; and when the Toad- Woman 
asks what ails you, say that you wish to see your 
cradle; for your cradle was of wampum, and your 
faithful brother the dog, in striving to save you, tore off 
these pieces which I show you. ' ' 

They were real wampum, white and blue, shining and 
beautiful; and the young man, placing them in his 
bosom, set off. He did not seem quite steady in his be- 
lief of the strange woman's story. But the dog, Spirit- 
Iron, taking his arm, kept close by his side and gave 
him many words of encouragement as they went along. 
They entered the lodge together; and the old Toad- 
Woman saw, from something in the dog's eye, that 
trouble was coming. 

139 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

"Mother," said the young man, placing his hand to 
his head and leaning heavily upon Spirit-Iron, as if a 
sudden faintness had come upon him, "Why am I so 
different in looks from the rest of your children ? ' ' 

"Oh," she answered, "there was a very bright, clear 
blue sky when you were born ; that is the reason. ' ' 

He seemed to be so very ill that the Toad-Woman at 
length asked what she could do for him. He said that 
nothing could do him good but the sight of his cradle. 
She ran immediately and brought a cedar cradle; but 
he said: 

"That is not my cradle." 

She went and got another of her own children's 
cradles, of which there were four; but he turned his 
head and said : 

"That is not mine; I am as sick as ever." 

When she had shown the four, and they had all been 
rejected, she at last produced the real cradle. The 
young man saw that it was of the same stuff as the 
wampum which he had in his bosom. He could even 
see the marks of the teeth of Spirit-Iron left upon the 
edges, where he had taken hold, striving to hold it back. 
So he had no doubt, now, which was his mother. 

To get free of the old Toad-Woman, it was neces- 
sary that the young man should kill a fat bear; and, 
being directed by Spirit-Iron, who was very wise in 
such a matter, he secured the fattest in all that country. 
Having stripped a tall pine of all its bark and branches, 
he perched the carcass in the top, with its head to the 

140 



THE TOAD-WOMAN 

east and its tail clue west. Then returning to the lodge, 
he informed the old Toad- Woman that the fat bear was 
ready for her, but that to get it she would have to go 
very far, even to the end of the earth. She answered : 

"It is not so far but that I can get it I" For of all 
things in the world, a fat bear was the delight of the 
old Toad- Woman. 

She at once set forth ; and she was no sooner out of 
sight than the young man and his dog, Spirit-Iron, blew 
a strong breath in the face of the Toad- Woman's four 
children (who were all bad spirits, or bear-fiends), and 
so put out their life. Then setting them up by the side 
of the door, they thrust a piece of the white bear-fat in 
each of their mouths. 

The Toad- Woman spent a long time in finding the 
bear which she had been sent after, and she made at 
least five and twenty attempts before she was able to 
climb to the carcass. She slipped down three times 
where she went up once. But at last she succeeded and 
returned with the great bear on her back. As she drew 
near her lodge she was astonished to see the four 
children standing up by the door-posts with the fat in 
their mouths. She was angry with them, and called 
out: 

"Why do you thus insult the pomatum of your 
brother !" 

She was still more angry when they made no answer 
to her complaint; but when she found that they were 
stark dead and had been placed in this way to mock her, 

141 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

her fury was very great indeed. She ran after the 
tracks of the young man and his mother as fast as she 
could; so fast, indeed, that she was on the very point 
of overtaking them, when the dog, Spirit-Iron, coming 
close up to his master, whispered to him — "Snake- 
berry ! ' ' 

"Let the snakeberry spring up to detain her!" cried 
out the young man. And immediately the berries 
spread for a long distance like scarlet all over the path, 
and the old Toad-Woman, who was almost as fond of 
these berries as she was of fat bears, could not avoid 
stooping down to pick and eat. 

The old Toad- Woman was very anxious to get for- 
ward, but the snakeberry-vines kept spreading out on 
every side; and they grew and grew, and spread and 
spread. And to this day the wicked old Toad-Woman 
is busy picking the berries. She will never be able to 
get beyond to the other side, to disturb the happines 
of the young hunter and his mother, who still live 
with their faithful dog, in the shadow of the beautifu 
wood-side where they were born. 




142 






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AND TO THIS DAY THE WICKED OLD TOAD-WOMAN IS BUSY PICKING 

the berries" — Page 142 



u 



X 
THE ORIGIN OF THE ROBIN 

AN old man had an only son, named Iadilla, who had 
come to that age when it is thought to be time for 
a boy to make the long and final fast which is to secure 
through life a guardian genius or spirit. The father 
was ambitious that his son should surpass all others 
in whatever was deemed wisest and greatest among 
his people. He thought it necessary that the young 
Iadilla, to do this, should fast a much longer time than 
any of those renowned for their power or wisdom. 
The father therefore directed his son to prepare with 
great ceremony for the important event. First he was 
to go several times to the sweating-lodge and bath, 
which were to prepare and purify him for communion 
with his good spirit. Then he was to lie down upon a 
clean mat in a little lodge expressly provided for him. 
He was especially enjoined, at the same time, to endure 
his fast like a man, and promised that at the end of 
twelve days he should receive food and the blessing of 
his father. 

The lad carefully observed these commands, and lay 
with his face covered, calmly awaiting the approach of 
the spirit which was to decide his good or evil fortune 
for all the days of his life. 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

Every morning his father came to the door of the 
little lodge and encouraged him to persevere, dwelling 
at length on the vast honor and renown that must ever 
attend him, should he accomplish the full term of t 
allotted to him. 

To these glowing words of promise and glory the boy 
never replied, but he lay without the least sign of d 
content or murmuring until the ninth day, when he ad- 
dressed his father as follows : 

"My father, my dreams forbode evil. May I break 
my fast now, and at a more favorable time make a 
new fast?" 

The father answered: 

"My son, you know not what you ask. If you get up 
now, all your glory will depart. Wait patiently a lit- 
tle longer. You have but three days more, and your 
term will be completed. You know it is for your own 
good, and I encourage you to persevere. Shall not 
your aged father live to see you a star among the chief- 
tains and the beloved of battle ? ' ' 

The son assented ; and covering himself more closely, 
that he might shut out the light which prompted him to 
complain, he lay till the eleventh day, when he repeated 
his request. 

The father addressed Iadilla as he had the day be- 
fore, and promised that he would himself prepare his 
first meal and bring it to him by the dawn of the next 
morning. 

The son moaned, and the father added : 

144 



THE ORIGIN OF THE ROBIN 

Will you bring shame upon your father when his 

sun is falling in the west!" 

"I will not shame you, my father," replied ladilla; 

d he lay so still and motionless that you could only 

t that he was living by the gentle heaving of his 

breast. 

At the spring of day, the father, delighted at having 
3d his end, prepared a repast for his son and has- 
led to set it before him. But on coming to the door 
e little lodge, he was surprised to hear his son talk- 
s' to himself. He stooped his ear to listen, and, look- 
s' through a small opening, was yet more astonished 
when he beheld his son painted with vermillion over all 
s breast. He was just in the act of finishing his work 
by laying on the paint as far back on his shoulders as 
he could reach, saying at the same time to himself : 
• ' My father has destroyed my fortune as a man. He 
Id not listen to my requests. He has urged me be- 
id my tender strength. He will be the loser. I 
11 be forever happy in my new state, for I have been 
'■■■: iient to my parent. He alone will be the sufferer, 
for my guardian spirit is a just one. Though not pro- 
pitious to me in the manner I desired, he has shown me 
pity in another way — he has given me another shape ; 
and now I must go." 
At this moment the old man broke in, exclaiming : 
i ' My son ! my son ! I pray you leave me not ! ' ' 
But the young man, with the quickness of a bird, had 
flown to the top of the lodge and perched himself on the 

145 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

highest pole, having been changed into a beautiful robin 
red-breast. He looked down upon his father with pity 
beaming in his eyes, and addressed him as follows : 

"Regret not, my father, the change you behold. I 
shall be happier in my present state than I could have 
been as a man. I shall always be the friend of men and 
keep near their dwellings. I shall ever be happy and 
contented; and although I could not be a mighty war- 
rior as you wished, it will be my daily aim to make you 
amends for it as a harbinger of peace and joy. I will 
cheer you by my songs and strive to inspire in others 
the joy and lightsomeness of heart I feel in my present 
state. This will be some compensation to you for the 
loss of glory you expected. I am now free from the 
cares and pains of human life. My food is spontane- 
ously furnished by the mountains and fields, and my 
path of life is in the bright air. ' ' 

Then stretching himself on his toes, as if delighted 
with the gift of wings, Iadilla carolled one of his 
sweetest songs and flew away into a neighboring wood. 




146 



XI 
WHITE FEATHER AND THE SIX GIANTS 

THERE was an old man living in the depth of a 
forest with his grandson, whom he had taken in 
charge when quite an infant. The child had no 
parents, brothers, or sisters; they had all been de- 
stroyed by six large giants, and he was informed that 
he had no other relative living besides his grandfather. 
The band of Indians to whom he had belonged had put 
Tip their children on a wager in a race against those of 
the giants, and had thus lost them. But there was an 
old tradition in the tribe, that one day it would produce 
a great man, who would wear a white feather, and who 
would astonish every one by his feats of skill and 
bravery. 

The grandfather, as soon as the child could play 
about, gave him a bow and arrows to amuse himself 
with. He went into the edge of the woods one day and 
saw a rabbit ; but not knowing what it was, he ran home 
and described it to his grandfather, who told him that 
its flesh was good to eat, and that if he would shoot one 
of his arrows into its body he would kill it. The boy 
went out again and brought home the little animal, 
which he asked his grandfather to boil, that they might 

147 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

feast on it. The old man humored the boy in this and 
encouraged him to go on acquiring the knowledge of 
hunting, until he could kill deer and the larger kinds of 
game. And thus he became, as he grew up, an expert 
hunter. 

As they lived alone, and away from other Indians, 
the curiosity of the stripling was excited to know what 
was passing in the world. One day he came to the edge 
of a prairie, where he saw ashes like those at his grand- 
father 's lodge, and lodge-poles left standing. He re- 
turned and inquired whether his grandfather had put 
up the poles and made the fire. 

"No," answered the old man, "nor do I believe that 
you have seen anything of the kind ; you must have lost 
your sense to be thinking of such things." 

Another day the youth went out to see what there 
was, within a day's hunt, that was curious; and on en- 
tering the woods he heard a voice calling out to him : 

' l Come here, you who are destined to wear the White 
Feather. You do not wear it, yet, but you are worthy 
of it. Eeturn home and take a short nap. You will 
dream of hearing a voice, which will tell you to rise and 
smoke. You will see in your dream a pipe, a smoking- 
sack, and a large white feather. When you awake you 
will find these articles. Put the feather on your head, 
and you will become a great hunter, a great warrior, 
and a great man, able to do anything. As a proof that 
these things shall come to pass, when you smoke, the 
smoke will turn into pigeons." 

148 



WHITE FEATHER 

The voice then informed the yonth who he was, and 
made known the character of his grandfather, who was 
imposing upon him to serve his own ends. 

The voice-spirit then caused a vine to be laid at his 
side, and told him that he was now of an age to avenge 
the wrongs of his kindred. 

"When you meet your enemy," the spirit added, 
"you will run a race with him. He will not see the 
vine, because it is enchanted. While you are running, 
you will throw it over his head and entangle him, so 
that you will win the race. ' ' 

Long before this speech was ended the youth had 
turned to the quarter from which the voice proceeded, 
and was astonished to behold a man; as yet he had 
never seen any human being besides his grandfather. 

As he looked more keenly, he saw that this man, who 
had the looks of great age, was wood from the breast 
downward, and that he appeared to be fixed in the 
earth. As the youth's eye dwelt upon this strange 
being, the countenance by degrees faded away, and 
when he advanced to the spot whence it had addressed 
him, it was gone. 

He returned home; slept, and in the midst of his 
slumbers, as from the hollow of the air, heard the voice ; 
wakened and found the promised gifts. It was all just 
as the old man had said. The grandfather on awaken- 
ing was greatly surprised to find the youth with a white 
feather on his forehead, and to see flocks of pigeons fly- 
ing out of the lodge. He then remembered the old 

149 



THE IXDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

tradition, and knowing that now the day had come 
when he should lose control of his charge, he bitterly 
bewailed the hour. 

Possessed of his three magic gifts, the young man 
departed the next morning, to seek his enemies and to 
demand revenge. 

The six giants lived in a very high lodge in the mid- 
dle of a wood. He traveled on with good heart till 
he reached this lodge, where he found that his coming 
had been made known by the little spirits who carry 
the news. The giants hastened out and gave a cry of 
joy as they saw him drawing near. "When he ap- 
proached within hail, they began to make sport of him, 
saying : 

"Here comes the little man with the white feather, 
who is to achieve such wonderful wonders." 

When, however, he had arrived among them, they 
spoke him fair, saying he was a brave man and would 
do brave things. Their object was to encourage him, 
so that he would be bold to engage in some foolhardy 
trial of strength. 

Without paying much heed to their fine speeches, 
White Feather went fearlessly into their lodge; and 
without waiting for invitation, he challenged them to a 
foot-match. They agreed; and by way of being easy 
at first, told him to begin the race with the smallest of 
their number. 

The point to which they were to run was a peeled tree 
toward the rising sun, and then back to the starting- 

150 



WHITE FEATHER 

place, which was a war-club of iron. Whoever won this 
stake was empowered to use it in despatching the de- 
feated champion. If "White Feather should overcome 
the first giant, he was to try the second, and so on, until 
they had all measured speed with him. To this the 
giants agreed without a thought that he would survive 
the first trial. But White Feather feared nothing and, 
by a dexterous use of the vine, gained the race, struck 
down his competitor, and cut off his head. 

The next morning he raced with the second giant, 
whom he also outran, killed and beheaded. 

He went on in this way for five mornings, always 
conquering by the aid of his vine, and lopping off the 
heads of the vanquished. 

Finally the last of the giants who was yet to run with 
him acknowledged his power, but prepared secretly to 
deceive him. By way of parley, he proposed that 
White Feather should leave the heads with him, and 
offered to give him a handsome start for odds. This 
White Feather declined, as he preferred to keep the 
heads as trophies of his victory. 

On his way to the giant's lodge the sixth morning, 
White Feather met his old counsellor in the woods. 
He was standing rooted in the earth, as before. He 
told White Feather that he was about to give him a 
word of warning. 

' ' On your way this morning, ' ' he said, "you will meet 
the most beautiful woman in the world, but do not trust 
her or pay the least attention to her. As soon as you 

151 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

catch her eye you must wish yourself changed into an 
elk. The change will take place immediately. Do not 
look at her again." 

White Feather thanked his kind adviser, who even as 
he spoke was disappearing as before, then proceeded 
toward the lodge. He had not gone far before he met 
the maiden, who was, indeed, as lovely as the morning's 
light. This was White Feather's first sight of a 
maiden, and he was greatly disposed to linger. But re- 
membering the counsellor's words, he lost no time in 
becoming an elk. At this the maiden began to re- 
proach him that he had cast aside the form of a man so 
that he might avoid her. 

"I have traveled a great distance," she said, "to see 
you and to become your wife ; for I have heard of your 
great achievements and admire you very much." 

Now this woman was the sixth giant, who had as- 
sumed this disguise to entrap White Feather. But 
without a suspicion of her real character, her re- 
proaches and her beauty affected him so deeply that he 
wished himself a man again, and at once resumed his 
natural shape. Then they sat down and began to talk 
together. 

Soothed by her smiles and- gracious manner, he laid 
his head on her lap, and in a little while fell into a deep 
slumber. 

Even then, such was her fear of White Feather, she 
doubted whether his sleep might not be feigned. To 
assure herself she pushed his head aside, and seeing 

152 



WHITE FEATHER 

that he remained unconscious, she quickly assumed the 
form of the sixth giant. He took the plume from the 
brow of White Feather and placed it upon his own 
head. Then with a sudden blow of his war-club the 
giant changed White Feather into a dog, in which form 
he followed his enemy to the lodge. 

While these things were passing, there were living 
in an Indian village at some distance two sisters, the 
daughters of a chief. These sisters were rivals, and 
they were at that very time fasting to acquire power 
for enticing the wearer of the white feather to visit 
their lodge. They each secretly hoped to win his love, 
and each had built a lodge on the border of the village 
encampment. 

The giant, knowing this and having become pos- 
sessed of the magic plume, went immediately to visit 
them. As he approached, the sisters, who were on the 
look-out at their lodge-doors, espied and recognized 
the feather. 

The elder sister had prepared her lodge with great 
show, and all the finery she could command, so as to 
attract the eye. The younger touched nothing in her 
lodge, but left it in its ordinary state. 

The elder went out to meet the giant and invited him 
in. He accepted her invitation and made her his wife. 
The younger sister invited the enchanted dog into her 
lodge, prepared him a good supper and a neat bed, and 
treated him with much attention. 

.The giant, supposing that whoever possessed the 

153 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

white feather possessed also all its virtues, went out 
upon the prairie to hunt, hallooing aloud to the game 
to come and be killed ; but the great hubbub he kept up 
scared them away, and he returned at night with noth- 
ing but himself; for he had shouted so lustily all day 
long that he had been obliged to leave even the mighty 
halloo behind. 

The dog went out the same day hunting upon the 
banks of a river. He stole quietly along to a certain 
spot, and stepping into the water drew out a stone, 
which instantly became a beaver. 

The next day the giant followed the dog, and hiding 
behind a tree, watched the manner in which the dog 
hunted in the river and drew out a stone, which at once 
turned into a beaver. 

"Ah, ha!" said the giant to himself, "I will catch 
some beaver for myself." 

So as soon as the dog had left the place, the giant 
went to the river, and, imitating the dog, drew out a 
stone. He was delighted to see it change into a fine 
fat beaver as soon as it touched the land. 

Tying it to his belt he hastened home, shouting a 
good deal and brandishing the white feather about, as 
if he were prepared now to show them what he could 
do when he once tried. And when he reached home he 
threw the beaver down, as is the custom, at the door of 
the lodge before he entered. 

After being seated a short time, he gave a dry cough 
and bade his wife bring in his hunting girdle. She 

154 



WHITE FEATHER 

made despatch to obey him and presently returned with 
the girdle, with nothing tied to it but a stone. 

The next day the dog, finding that his method of 
catching beavers had been discovered, went to a wood 
at some distance and broke off a charred limb from a 
burned tree. This limb instantly became a bear. The 
giant, who appeared to have lost faith in his hullaba- 
looing, again watched him, did exactly as the dog had 
done, and carried a bear home ; but his wife, when she 
came to go out for it, found nothing but a black stick 
tied to his belt. 

And so it happened with everything. Whatever the 
dog undertook, prospered; whatever the giant at- 
tempted, failed. And even his brave halloo had now 
died away to a feeble chirp. Every day the younger 
sister had reason to be more proud of the poor dog she 
had asked into her lodge, and every day the elder sister 
was made more aware that, though she had married 
the white feather, the virtues of the magic plume were 
not the personal property of the noisy giant. 

At last the wife determined that she would go to her 
father and make known to him what a valuable husband 
she had, and how he furnished her lodge with a great 
abundance of sticks and stones, which he would pass 
upon her for bear and beaver. So, when her husband 
had started for the hunt, she set out. 

As soon as these two had gone away from the neigh- 
borhood, the dog made signs to his mistress to sweat 
him after the manner of the Indians. He had always 

155 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

been a good clog, and she was willing to oblige liim. 
She accordingly made a lodge just large enough for 
him to creep in. She then put in heated stones and 
poured water upon them, raising a vapor that filled 
the lodge and searched with its warmth to the very 
heart's core of the enchanted dog. 

"When this had been kept up for the customary time, 
the enchanted dog was completely sweated away, and 
out came in his stead a very handsome young man. 
But unhappily he was without the power of speech. In 
taking away the form of the dog, it appears that the 
sweating-lodge had also carried off his voice with it. 

Meantime the elder sister had reached her father's 
lodge and had told him with much circumstance and a 
very long face how her sister was supporting an idle 
dog, and entertaining him as her husband. In her 
anxiety to make known her sister's affairs and the great 
scandal she was bringing upon the family, the elder sis- 
ter forgot to say anything of the sticks and stones 
which her own husband brought home for bears and 
beavers. The old man listening to his daughter and 
suspecting that there was magic about, sent a deputa- 
tion of young men and women to ask his younger 
daughter to come to him and to bring her dog along 
with her. When the deputation reached the lodge, 
they were surprised to find in the place of the dog a 
fine young man; and on announcing their message, 
they all returned to the old chief, who was no less sur- 
prised at the change. 

15G 



WHITE FEATHER 

He immediately assembled all the old and wise heads 
of the nation to come and he witnesses to the exploits 
which it was reported that the young man could per- 
form. The sixth giant, although neither very old nor 
very wise, thrust himself in among the relations of the 
old chief. 

When they were all assembled and seated in a circle, 
the old chief took his pipe and filled it, and passed it 
to the Indians around, to see if anything would happen 
when they smoked. They passed it on until it came to 
the Dog, who made a sign that it should be handed first 
to the giant, and this was done. And the giant puffed 
with all his might, and shook the white feather upon 
his head, and swelled his chest ; but nothing came of it, 
except a great deal of smoke. The Dog then took it 
himself. He made a sign to them to put the white 
feather upon his head. This was no sooner done than 
he recovered his speech, and, beginning to draw upon 
the pipe at the same moment, behold ! immense flocks of 
white and blue pigeons rushed from the smoke. Then 
White Feather, at the request of the company, faith- 
fully recounted his history, and the sixth giant was 
known for what he was. So the old chief, who was a 
magician too, ordered that he should be transformed 
into a dog and turned into the middle of the village, 
where the boys could pelt him to death with clubs. 
This being done, the whole six giants were at an end, 
and never troubled that neighborhood again, forever 
after. 

157 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

The chief then gave out a further command, at the 
request of White Feather, that all the young men 
should employ themselves four days in making arrows. 
White Feather also asked for a buffalo robe. This he 
cut into thin shreds, and in the night went secretly and 
sowed them about the prairie in every direction. 

At the end of the four days he invited the young men 
to gather together all of their arrows and to accom- 
pany him to a buffalo hunt. When they got out upon 
the prairie, they found it covered with a great herd of 
buffalos. Of these they killed as many as they 
pleased, and afterward they had a grand festival in 
honor of White Feather's triumph over the giants. 

All this being pleasantly over, White Feather got 
his wife to ask her father's permission to go with him 
on a visit to his grandfather. The old chief replied 
that a woman must follow her husband into whatever 
quarter of the world he may choose to go. 

So bidding farewell to all his friends, White Feather 
placed the plume in his frontlet, took his war-club in 
his hand, and led the way into the forest, followed by 
his faithful wife. 



158 



M 






■prf 





behold! immense flocks of white and blue pigeons rushed 
from the smoke" — Page 157 



XII 
SHEEM, THE FORSAKEN BOY 

ON a certain afternoon the sun was falling in the 
west, and in the midst of the ruddy silence a 
solitary lodge stood on the banks of a remote lake. 
One sound only broke in the least degree the forest 
stillness — the low breathing of the dying inmate of the 
lodge, who was the head of a poor family. His wife 
and children surrounded the buffalo robe on which he 
lay. Of the children, two were almost grown up — a 
daughter and a son; the other was a boy, and a mere 
child in years. 

All the skill of the household in simple medicines was 
exhausted, and they stood watching now, awaiting the 
departure of the spirit. As one of the last acts of 
kindness, the skin door of the lodge had been thrown 
back to admit the fresh air of the evening. The poor 
man felt a momentary return of strength, and raising 
himself a little, he addressed his family: 

"I leave you," he said, "in a world of care, in which 
it has required all my strength and skill to supply you 
food, and to protect you from the storms and cold of 
a harsh climate. " 

He cast his eyes upon his wife, and continued : 

"For you, my partner in life, I have less sorrow, 

159 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

because I am persuaded you will not remain long be- 
hind me; but you, my children! my poor and forsaken 
children, who have just begun the career of life ! Who 
will shelter you from calamity? Listen to my words. 
Unkindness, ingratitude, and every wickedness are in 
the outside world. It was for this that years ago I 
withdrew from my kindred and my tribe to spend our 
days in this lonely spot. I have contented myself with 
the company of your mother and yourselves, during 
seasons of very frequent scarcity and want, while your 
kindred, feasting in plenty, have caused the forests to 
echo with the shouts of successful war. I gave up 
these things for the enjoyment of peace. I wished to 
hide you away from the bad examples which would 
have spoiled your innocence. I have seen you, thus 
far, grow up in purity of heart. If we have some- 
times suffered bodily want, we have escaped pain of 
mind. We have not been compelled to look on or to 
take a part with the red hand in scenes of rioting and 
bloodshed. My path now stops. I have arrived at 
the brink of the world. I will shut my eyes in peace 
if you, my children, will promise me to cherish each 
other. Let not your mother suffer during the few days 
that are left to her ; and I charge you, on no account, 
to forsake your younger brother. Of him I give you 
both my dying command to have a tender care." 

He spoke no more, and as the sun fell out of view 
the light had gone from his face. The family stood 
still, as if they expected to hear something further; 

1G0 



SHEEM, THE FORSAKEN BOY 

but when they came to his side and called him by name, 
his spirit did not answer. It was in another world. 

The mother and daughter lamented aloud, but the 
elder son clothed himself in a mantle of silence and 
took his course as though nothing had occurred. He 
exerted himself to supply, with his bow and net, the 
wants of the little household, but he never made men- 
tion of his father. 

Five moons had filled and waned, and the sixth was 
near its full, when the mother also died. In her last 
moments she begged them to fulfil their father's wish. 

The winter passed, and the spring, sparkling in the 
clear northern air, cheered the spirits of the lonely 
little people in the lodge. 

The girl, being the eldest, directed her brothers, 
and she seemed to feel a tender and sisterly affection 
for the youngest, who was slight of frame and of a 
delicate temper. The other boy soon began to break 
forth with restless speeches, which showed that his 
spirit was not at ease. One day he addressed his sis- 
ter as follows : 

"My sister, are we always to live as if there were 
no other human beings in the world? Must I deprive 
myself of the pleasure of mingling with my own kind? 
I have determined this question for myself. I shall 
seek the villages of men, and you can not prevent me." 

The sister replied: 

"I do not say no, my brother, to what you desire; 
we are not forbidden the society of our fellow mortals, 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

but we are told to cherish each other, and to do nothing 
that shall not be agreeable to all our little household. 
Neither pleasure nor pain ought, therefore, to separate 
us, especially from our younger brother, who, being 
but a child and weakly withal, is entitled to a double 
share of our affection. If we follow our separate 
fancies, it will surely make us neglect him, whom we 
are bound to support by vows both to our father and 
mother.' ' 

The young man received this address in silence, still 
took his course as though nothing out of the ordinary 
way had occurred, and after a while seemed to recover 
his spirits. Now as they lived in a large country, 
where there were open fields, the two brothers often 
amused themselves in playing ball. One afternoon 
Owasso, the elder brother, chose the ground near to a 
beautiful lake, and they played and laughed with great 
spirit, and the ball was seldom allowed to touch the 
ground. 

In this lake there happened to harbor a wicked old 
Manito, Mishosha by name. He looked at the brothers 
as they played and was vastly pleased with their nim- 
bleness and beauty. He thought to himself, "What 
shall I do to get these lads to accompany me? I know 
— one of them shall hit the ball sideways and it shall 
fall into my canoe." 

It so happened, and it somehow seemed as if Owasso 
had purposely given the ball that direction. But when 
he saw the old man, he professed to be greatly sur- 

102 



SHEEM, THE FORSAKEN BOY 

prised, as the other, Sheem by name, was in truth, for 
he had not noticed the old Manito before. 

' t Bring the ball to us, ' ' they both cried out. ' ' Come 
to the shore." 

"No," answered the old magician. He, however, 
came near enough for either of them to wade out to 
him. "Come, come," he said. "Come and get your 
ball." 

They insisted that he should come ashore, but this 
he sturdily declined to do. 

"Very well," said Owasso, "I will go and get it." 
And he ran into the water. "Hand it to me," he said, 
when he had approached near enough to receive it. 

"Ha!" answered the Manito, "reach over and get 
it yourself." 

Owasso was about to grasp the ball, when the old 
magician suddenly seized him and pushed him into the 
boat. 

"My grandfather," said Owasso, "pray take my 
little brother also. Alone I can not go with you; he 
will starve if I leave him." 

Mishosha only laughed at him. He then uttered the 
charmed words, "Chemaun Poll!" and gave his canoe 
a slap, whereupon it glided through the water with the 
swiftness of an arrow without further help. 

In a short time they reached the magician's lodge, 
which stood upon the further shore a little distance 
back from the lake. The two daughters of Mishosha 
were seated within. 

163 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

"My daughter," the magician said to the eldest, as 
they entered the lodge, "I have brought you a hus- 
band." 

The young woman smiled ; for Owasso was a comely 
youth to look upon. The magician told him to take his 
seat near her, and by this act the marriage ceremony 
was completed. Owasso and the magician's daughter 
were now man and wife, and in the course of time a 
son was born to them. 

But no sooner was Owasso in the family than the old 
Manito wished him out of the way, and went about in 
his own wicked fashion to compass it. 

One day he asked his son-in-law to go out a-fishing 
with him. They started without delay; for the magi- 
cian had only to speak, and off went the canoe. Soon 
they reached a solitary bay in an island, a very dark, 
lonely, and out-of-the-way place. The Manito advised 
Owasso to spear a large sturgeon that came alongside, 
which with its great glassy eye turned up seemed to 
recognize the magician. Owasso rose in the boat to 
dart his spear, and by speaking that moment to his 
canoe, Mishosha shot forward in it and hurled his son- 
in-law headlong into the water. Leaving him to strug- 
gle for himself, the old magician was soon out of sight. 

Meanwhile Owasso, being himself gifted with cer- 
tain limited magical powers, spoke to the fish and bade 
him swim toward the lodge, then grabbing hold of the 
tail, he was carried along at great speed. Once he di- 
rected the sturgeon to rise near the surface of the 

104 



SHEEM, THE FORSAKEN BOY 

water, so that he might, if possible, get a view of the 
magician. The fish obeyed, and Owasso saw the 
wicked old Manito bnsy in another direction, fishing, 
as unconcerned as though he had not just lost a mem- 
ber of his family. 

On went the fish, and on went Owasso, till they 
reached the shore, near the magician's lodge. He then 
spoke kindly to the sturgeon and told him he should 
not be angry at having been speared, as he was created 
to be meat for man. The sturgeon made no reply, or 
if he did, it has not been reported ; and Owasso, draw- 
ing the fish on shore, went up and told his wife to dress 
and cook it immediately. By the time it was prepared 
the magician had come in sight. 

"Your grandfather has arrived," said the woman to 
her son; "go and see what he brings, and eat this as 
you go" — handing him a piece of the fish. 

The boy went, and the magician no sooner saw him 
with the fish in his hand, than he asked him, "What 
are you eating? Who brought it!" 

The boy replied, "My father brought it." 

The magician began to feel uneasy, for he saw that 
he had been outwitted. He put on a grave face, how- 
ever, and entering the lodge, acted as if nothing un- 
usual had happened. 

Some days after this, Mishosha again requested his 
son-in-law to accompany him; and Owasso, without 
hesitation, said "Yes!" 

They went out and quickly arrived at a solitary 

165 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

island, which was no more than a heap of high and 
craggy rocks. 

The magician said to Owasso, "Go on shore, my son, 
and pick up all the gulls ' eggs you can find. ' ' 

The rocks were strewn with eggs, and the air re- 
sounded with the cry of the birds as they saw them 
gathered up by Owasso. 

The old magician took the opportunity to speak to 
the gulls. 

"I have long wished," he said, "to offer you some- 
thing. I now give you this young man for food. ' ' 

He then uttered the charm to his canoe, and it shot 
out of sight, leaving Owasso to make his peace the best 
way he could. 

The gulls flew in immense numbers around, all ready 
to devour him, but Owasso did not lose his presence of 
mind. He addressed them and said : 

' ' Gulls, you know you were not formed to eat human 
flesh, nor was man made to be the prey of birds. Obey 
my words. Fly close together, a sufficient number of 
you, and carry me on your backs to the magician's 
lodge. ' ' 

They listened attentively to what he said, and seeing 
nothing unreasonable in his request, they obeyed him, 
and Owasso soon found himself sailing swiftly home- 
ward through the air. 

Meanwhile the old magician had fallen asleep and 
allowed his canoe to come to a standstill. Owasso, in 
his flight over the lake, saw him lying on his back in 

1GG 




'carry me on your backs to the magician's lodge' " — Page 166 



SHEEM, THE FORSAKEN BOY 

the boat taking a nap, which was quite natural, as the 
day was very soft and balmy. 

As Owasso, with his convoy of birds, passed over, he 
let fall a capful of gulls ' eggs directly in the face of the 
old magician. They broke and so besmeared Misho- 
sha's eyes that he could barely see. He jumped up 
and exclaimed : 

''It is always so with these thoughtless birds. They 
never consider where they drop their eggs." 

Owasso flew on and reached the lodge in safety, 
where, excusing himself for the liberty, he killed two 
or three of the gulls, as he wished their feathers to 
ornament his son's head. 

When the magician arrived, soon after, his grand- 
son came out to meet him, tossing his head about as the 
feathers danced and struggled with the wind. 

" Where did you get these," asked the Manito, "and 
who brought them?" 

"My father brought them," the boy replied. 

The old magician was quite distressed in his mind 
that he had not destroyed his son-in-law. He entered 
his lodge in silence and set his wits busily at work 
again to contrive some more successful plan to gain 
his purpose. 

He could not help saying to himself : 

"What manner of boy is this who is ever escaping 
from my power? But his guardian spirit shall not 
save him. I will entrap him to-morrow. Ha, ha, ha !" 

He was painfully aware that he had tried two of his 

167 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

charms without effect, and that he had only two more 
left. But he now professed to be more friendly with 
his son-in-law than ever, and the very next day he said 
to Owasso : 

"Come, my son, you must go with me to procure 
some young eagles. We will tame them and have them 
for pets about the lodge. I have discovered an island 
where they are in great abundance. ' ' 

They started on the trip, and after traversing an 
immense waste of water, at last reached the island. 
Mishosha led Owasso inland until they came to the 
foot of a tall pine-tree, upon which the nests were to 
be found. 

"Now, my son," said Mishosha, "climb up this tree 
and bring down the birds. I think you will get some 
fine ones up there. " 

Owasso obeyed. When he had with great difficulty 
got near the nest, Mishosha cried out, addressing him- 
self to the tree, and without much regard for the 
wishes of Owasso : 

"Now stretch yourself up and be very tall. ' * 

The tree, at this bidding, rose up so far that Owasso 
would have imperiled his neck by any attempt to get 
to the ground. 

"Listen, ye eagles!" continued Mishosha. "You 
have long expected a gift from me. I now present 
you this boy, who has had the presumption to climb up 
to your nests in order to molest your young. Stretch 
forth your claws and seize him." 

1G8 



SHEEM, THE FORSAKEN BOY 

So saying, the old magician turned his back upon 
Owasso, and going off in the canoe, left his son-in-law 
to shift for himself. 

But the birds did not seem to be so badly minded as 
the old magician had supposed; for a very old bald 
eagle, quite corpulent and large of limb, alighted on a 
branch just opposite, opened conversation with Owasso 
by asking what had brought him there. 

Owasso replied that he had not mounted the tree of 
himself, or out of any disposition to harm the birds, 
but that his father-in-law, the old magician who had 
just left them, had sent him up ; that he was constantly 
sending him on mischievous errands. In a word, the 
young man was enlarging at great length upon the 
character of the wicked Manito, when he was inter- 
rupted by being darted upon by a hungry-eyed bird, 
with long claws. 

Owasso, not in the least disconcerted, boldly seized 
this fierce eagle by the neck and dashed it against the 
rocks, crying out: 

"Thus will I deal with all who come near me." 

The old eagle, who appeared to be the head of the 
tribe, was so pleased with this show of spirit that he 
immediately appointed two tall birds, uncommonly 
strong in the wings, to transport Owasso to his lodge. 
They were to take turns in conducting him through the 
air. 

Owasso expressed many obligations to the old eagle 
for his kindness, and they forthwith set out. It was a 

169 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

high point from which they started, for the pine-tree 
had shot far, far up toward the clouds, and they could 
even descry from it the enchanted island where the old 
magician lived, though it was miles and miles away. 
For this point they steered their flight ; and in a short 
time they landed Owasso at the door of the lodge. 

With many compliments for their despatch, Owasso 
dismissed the birds and stood ready to greet his wicked 
father-in-law who arrived a few minutes after. And 
now when Mishosha espied his son-in-law standing 
there unharmed he became very black in the face and 
raged horribly. But dissembling his feelings and still 
professing great friendship he pondered deeply as to 
how he might use his one remaining charm to the best 
advantage. 

While he was still considering this, Owasso and his 
wife, sitting on the banks of the lake one evening, 
heard a song, as if sung by some one at a great dis- 
tance. The sound continued for some time and then 
died away in perfect stillness. 

"Oh, it is the voice of Sheem," cried Owasso. "It 
is the voice of my brother ! If I could only see him ! ' ' 
And he hung down his head in deep anguish. 

His wife witnessed his distress, and to comfort him 
she proposed that they should attempt to make their 
escape and carry him succor on the morrow. 

When the morning came, and the sun shone warmly 
into the lodge, the wife of Owasso offered to comb her 
father's hair, with the hope that it would soothe him 

170 



SHEEM, THE FORSAKEN BOY 

to sleep. It had that effect; and they no sooner saw 
him in deep slumber than they seized the magic canoe, 
Owasso uttered the charmed words, "Chemaun Poll!" 
and they glided away upon the water without need of 
oar or sail. 

They had nearly reached the land on the opposite 
side of the lake, and could distinctly hear the voice of 
the younger brother singing his lament as before, when 
the old magician wakened. Missing his daughter and 
her husband, he suspected deception of some kind ; he 
looked for his magic boat and found it gone. He 
spoke the magic words, which were more powerful 
from him than from any other person in the world, and 
the canoe immediately returned; to the sore disap- 
pointment of Owasso and his wife. 

When they came back to the shore, Mishosha stood 
upon the beach and drew up his canoe. He did not 
utter a word. The son-in-law and daughter entered 
the lodge in silence. 

The time, walking along in its broad open path, 
brought the autumn months to a close, and the winter 
had set in. Soon after the first fall of snow, Owasso 
said: 

" Father, I wish to try my skill in hunting. It is 
said there is plenty of game not far off, and it can now 
be easily tracked. Let us go." 

The magician consented; they set out, and arriving 
at a good ground for their sport, spent the day in hunt- 
ing. Night coming on, they built themselves a lodge 

171 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

of pine-branches to sleep in. Although it was bitterly 
cold, the young man took off his leggings and mocca- 
sins and hung them up to dry. The old magician did 
the same, carefully hanging his own in a separate 
place, and they lay down to sleep. 

Owasso, from a glance he had given, suspected that 
the magician had a mind to play him a trick; and to 
be beforehand with him, he watched an opportunity to 
get up and change the moccasins and leggings, putting 
his own in the place of Mishosha's, and depending on 
the darkness of the lodge to help him through. 

Near daylight, the old magician bestirred himself, 
as if to rekindle the fire ; but he slyly reached down a 
pair of moccasins and leggings with a stick, and think- 
ing they were no other than those of Owasso 's, he 
dropped them into the flames. Then he cast himself 
down and affected to be lost in a heavy sleep. The 
leather leggings and moccasins soon drew up and were 
burned. 

Instantly jumping up and rubbing his eyes, Misho- 
sha cried out: 

" Son-in-law, your moccasins are burning; I know 
it by the smell. ' ' 

Owasso rose up, deliberate and unconcerned. 

"No, my friend," said he, "here are mine," at the 
same time taking them down and drawing them on. 
"It is your moccasins that are burning." 

Mishosha dropped his head upon his breast. All his 
tricks were played out — there was not so much as half 

172 



SHEEM, THE FORSAKEN BOY 

a one left to help him out of the sorry plight he was 
in. 

"I believe, my grandfather," added Owasso, ''that 
this is the moon in which fire attracts, and I fear you 
must have set your foot and leg garments too near the 
fire, and they have been drawn in. It is bad that you 
have none, but let us go forth to the hunt. ' ' 

The old magician was compelled to follow him, and 
they pushed out into a great storm of snow and hail 
and wind, which had come on over night ; and neither 
the wind, the hail, nor the snow had the slightest re- 
spect for the bare limbs of the old magician, for there 
was not the least virtue of magic in those parts of old 
Mishosha's body. After a while they quite stiffened 
under him, his body became hard, and his hair bristled 
in the cold wind; so that he looked more like a tough 
old sycamore tree than a highly gifted magician. But 
Owasso, remembering, had no compassion and turned 
away, leaving the wicked old fellow alone to ponder 
upon his past life. 

Owasso himself reached home in safety, proof 
against all kinds of weather, and the magic canoe be- 
came the exclusive property of the young man and his 
wife. 

Now to go back to the sister who had been left alone 
with Sheem during all these years. She knew enough 
of the arts of the forest to provide their daily food and 
labored with good-will to supply the lodge. She 
watched her little brother and tended his wants, with 

173 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

all of a good sister's care. But at last she began to 
be weary of solitude and of her charge. No one came 
to be a witness of her constancy, or to let fall a single 
word in her mother-tongue. She could not converse 
with the birds and beasts about her, and felt, to the 
bottom of her heart, that she was alone. In these 
thoughts she forgot her younger brother, and almost 
wished him dead; for it was he alone that kept her 
from seeking the companionship of others. 

So one day she collected all the provisions she had 
been able to reserve from their daily use and brought 
a supply of wood to the door. Then she said to her 
little brother : 

"My brother, you must not stray from the lodge. I 
am going to seek our elder brother. I shall be back 
soon." 

She then set the lodge in perfect order and, taking 
her bundle, set off in search of habitations. These 
she soon found, and in the enjoyment of the pleasures 
and pastimes of her new acquaintances, she began to 
think less and less of her little brother, Sheem. At 
last she accepted a proposal of marriage, and from 
that time she utterly forgot the abandoned boy. 

As for poor little Sheem, he was soon brought to the 
pinching turn of his fate. As soon as he had eaten all 
of the food left in the lodge, he was obliged to pick 
berries and live off such roots as could be dug with his 
slender hands. As he wandered about in search of 
the wherewithal to stay his hunger, he often looked up 

174 



SHEEM, THE FORSAKEN BOY 

to heaven and saw the gray clouds going up and down. 
And then he looked about upon the wide earth, but he 
never saw his sister or brother returning from their 
long delay. 

At last, even the roots and berries gave out. They 
were blighted by the frost or hidden out of reach by 
the snow, for midwinter had come on, and poor little 
Sheem was obliged to leave the lodge and wander away 
in search of food. 

Sometimes he had to pass the night in the clefts of 
old trees or in caverns, and to break his fast with the 
refuse meals of the savage wolves. 

These at last became his only resource, and he grew 
to be so little fearful of these animals that he would 
sit by them while they devoured their meat, and 
patiently await his share. 

After a while, the wolves took to little Sheem very 
kindly, and seeming to understand his outcast con- 
dition, they would always leave something for him to 
eat. By and by they began to talk with him, and to 
inquire into his history. When he told them that he 
had been forsaken by his brother and his sister, the 
wolves turned about to each other, lifted up their eyes 
to heaven, and wondered among themselves, with 
raised paws, that such a thing should have been. 

In this way Sheem lived on till the spring, and as 
soon as the lake was free from ice, he followed his new 
friends to the shore. 

It happened on the same day that his elder brother, 

175 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

Owasso, was fishing in his magic canoe, a considerable 
distance out upon the lake. Suddenly he thought he 
heard the cries of a child upon the shore. He won- 
dered how any human creature could exist on so bleak 
and barren a coast. 

He listened again with all attention, and he heard 
the cry distinctly repeated; and this time it was the 
well-known cry of his younger brother that reached 
his ear. He knew too well the secret of his song, as he 
heard him chaunting mournfully: 

"My brother! My brother! Since you left me 
going in the canoe, a-hee-ee, I am half changed into a 
wolf, E-wee. I am half changed into a wolf, E-wee." 

Owasso made for the shore, and as he approached 
the lament was repeated. The sounds were very dis- 
tinct, and the voice of wailing was very sorrowful for 
Owasso to listen to ; and it touched him the more that 
it died away at the close into a long-drawn howl, like 
that of the wolf. 

In the sand, as he drew closer to the land, he saw the 
tracks as of an animal fleeing away; and beside these 
the prints of human hands. But what were the pity 
and astonishment that smote Owasso to the heart when 
he espied his poor little brother — poor little forsaken 
Sheem — half boy and half wolf, flying along the shore ! 

Owasso immediately leaped upon the ground and 
strove to catch him in his arms, saying soothingly, 
"My brother! my brother! Come to me." 

But the poor wolf-boy avoided his grasp, crying, as 

170 



SHEEM, THE FORSAKEN BOY 

he fled, "Neesia, neesia. Since you left me going in 
the canoe, a-he-ee, I am half changed into a wolf, E-wee. 
I am half changed into a wolf, E-wee!" And he 
howled between these words of lament. 

The elder brother, sore at heart and feeling all of his 
brotherly affection strongly returning, cried out with 
renewed anguish, "My brother! my brother! my 
brother!'' 

But the nearer he approached to poor Sheem, and 
the faster Sheem fled, the more rapidly the change 
from boy to wolf went on ; the boy- wolf by turns sing- 
ing and howling, and calling out the name, first of his 
brother, next of his sister, till the change was complete. 
Then he leaped upon a bank, and looking back, cast 
upon Owasso a glance of deep reproach and grief. 

"I am a wolf!" he cried and disappeared in the 
woods. 




177 



XIII 
STRONG DESIRE AND THE RED SORCERER 

THERE was a man called Odshedoph, or the Child 
of Strong Desires, who had a wife and one son. 
He had withdrawn his family from the village, where 
they had spent the winter, to the neighborhood of a 
distant forest, where game abounded. This wood was 
a day's travel from his winter home, and under its 
ample shadows the wife fixed the lodge, while the hus- 
band went out to hunt. Early in the evening he re- 
turned with a deer, and being weary and athirst, he 
asked his son, whom he called Strong Desire, to go to 
the river for some water. The son replied that it was 
dark and he was afraid. His father still urged him, 
saying that his mother as well as himself was tired, 
and the distance to the water very short. But no per- 
suasion could overcome the young man's reluctance. 
He refused to go. 

"Ah, my son," said the father at last, "I am 
ashamed of you. If you are even afraid to go to the 
river, you will never kill the Red Head. ' ' 

The stripling was deeply vexed by this observation ; 
it seemed to touch him to the very quick. He mused 
in silence. He refused to eat and made no reply when 



STRONG DESIRE AND RED SORCERER 

spoken to. He sat by the lodge-door all the night 
through, looking up at the stars and sighing like one 
sorely distressed. 

The next day he asked his mother to dress the skin 
of the deer and to make it into moccasins for him, while 
he busied himself in preparing a bow and arrows. 

As soon as these were in readiness, he left the lodge 
one morning at sunrise, without saying a word to his 
father or mother. As he passed along, he fired one of 
his arrows into the air, and it fell westward. He took 
that course, and coming to the spot where the arrow 
had fallen, was rejoiced to find it piercing the heart of 
a deer. He refreshed himself with a meal of the veni- 
son, and the next morning fired another arrow. Fol- 
lowing its course, after traveling all day he found that 
he had transfixed another deer. In this manner he 
fired four arrows, and every evening discovered that 
he had killed a deer. 

By a strange oversight he left the arrows sticking 
in the carcasses and passed on without withdrawing 
them. Having in this way no arrow for the fifth day, 
he was in great distress at night for the want of food. 

At last he threw himself upon the earth in despair, 
concluding that he might as well perish there as go 
farther. But he had not lain long before he heard a 
hollow rumbling noise in the ground beneath him, like 
that of an earthquake moving slowly along. 

He sprang up and discovered at a distance the figure 
of a human being, walking with a stick. He looked 

179 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

attentively and saw that the figure was walking over 
the prairie on a wide beaten path that ran from a dusky 
lodge to the waters of a black and turbid lake. 

To his surprise this lodge, which had not been in 
view when he cast himself upon the ground, was now 
near at hand. He approached a little nearer, conceal- 
ing himself, and in a moment discovered that the figure 
was no other than that of the terrible witch, the Little 
Old Woman "Who Makes War. Her path to the lake 
was perfectly smooth and solid, and the noise Strong 
Desire had heard was caused by the striking of her 
walking staff upon the ground. The top of this staff 
was decorated with a string of the toes and bills of 
every kind of bird, and at every stroke of the stick 
these fluttered and sang their various notes in concert. 

The witch entered her lodge and laid off her mantle, 
which was entirely composed of the scalps of women. 
Before folding it, she shook it several times, and at 
every shake the scalps uttered loud shouts of laughter, 
in which the old hag joined. The boy, who now had 
arrived at the door, was greatly alarmed, but he uttered 
no cry. 

After laying by the cloak, the witch came directly to 
him. Looking at him steadily, she informed him that 
she had known him from the time he had left his 
father's lodge, and had watched his movements. She 
told him not to fear or despair, for she would be his 
protector and friend. Then she invited him into her 
lodge and gave him a supper. During the repast she 

ISO 



STRONG DESIRE AND RED SORCERER 

questioned him as to his motives for visiting her. He 
related his story and stated the manner in which he 
had been disgraced and the difficulties he labored 
under. 

"Now tell me truly," said the Little Old Woman 
Who Makes War, "you were afraid to go to the water 
in the dark." 

"I was," Strong Desire answered promptly. 

As he replied, the hag waved her staff. The birds 
set up a clamorous cry, and the mantle shook violently 
as all the scalps burst into a hideous shout of laughter. 

"And are you afraid now?" she asked again. 

"I am," again answered Strong Desire without hesi- 
tation. 

"But you are not afraid to speak the truth," rejoined 
the little old woman. "You will be a brave man yet, 
and to show you that I trust you I will help you kill the 
Red Head." 

Now Hah-Nudo-Tah, or the Red Head, was a most 
powerful sorcerer. Living upon an island in the cen- 
ter of his realm of water, he was the terror of all the 
country about. It was the ambition of every Indian 
youth to be the one finally to overcome him, so Strong 
Desire was greatly cheered by this assurance of the 
little old woman's friendship. 

"Do to me as you will," he said, "I will try not to 
be unworthy of your confidence." 

"So be it," answered the little old woman, and began 
at once to exercise her power upon him. His hair 

181 



THE INDIxVN FAIRY BOOK 

being very short, she took a great leaden comb, and 
after she had drawn it through his locks several times, 
they became of a handsome length like those of a beau- 
tiful young woman. She then proceeded to dress him 
as a maiden, furnishing him with the necessary gar- 
ments and tinting his face with colors of the most 
charming dye. She gave him, too, a bowl of shining 
metal. She directed him to put in his girdle a blade 
of scented sword-grass and to proceed the next morn- 
ing to the banks of the lake, which was no other than 
that over which the Bed Head reigned. She then in- 
formed him that there would be many Indians upon 
the island, who, as soon as they saw him use the shining 
bowl to drink with, would come thinking him a woman, 
to offer marriage. These offers he was to refuse, and 
to say that he was a maiden who had come a great dis- 
tance to be the wife of the Eed Head, and that if the 
chief could not seek her she would marry no one. 

"Then," continued the little old woman, "as soon as 
Eed Head hears of this he will come for you in his own 
canoe, in which you must embark. On reaching the 
shore," she added, "you must consent to be his wife; 
and in the evening you are to induce him to take a 
walk out of the village. When you have reached a 
lonesome spot, use the first opportunity to cut off his 
head with the blade of grass." 

The little old woman also gave Strong Desire advice 
about how he was to conduct himself to sustain his as- 
sumed character of a woman. But by this time his 



STRONG DESIRE AND RED SORCERER 

fear was so great that he could hardly consent to en- 
gage in an adventure attended with so much danger; 
only the recollection of his father's looks and re- 
proaches for his want of courage decided him. 

Early in the morning he left the lodge of the Little 
Old Woman Who Makes War, and it was clouded in a 
heavy brackish fog, so thick and heavy to breathe that 
he with difficulty made his way forth. When he turned 
to look back, the lodge was gone. 

Then Strong Desire took the hard beaten path to the 
banks of the lake and made for the water at a point 
directly opposite the Bed Head's lodge. 

He had not been long there, sauntering along the 
beach, when he displayed the glittering bowl by dipping 
water from the lake. Very soon a number of canoes 
came off from the island. The men admired his dress 
and were charmed with his beauty and almost with one 
voice they all made proposals of marriage. These 
Strong Desire promptly declined, in the manner of 
which the little old woman had warned him. 

When this was reported to Red Head, he ordered his 
royal bark to be launched by his chosen men of the oar, 
and crossed over to see this wonderful girl. As they 
approached the shore, Strong Desire saw that the ribs 
of the sorcerer's canoe were formed of living rattle- 
snakes, whose heads pointed outward to guard him 
from his enemies. Being invited, he had no sooner 
stepped into the canoe, than they began to hiss and 
rattle furiously, which put him in a great fright. 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

However this rather added to than detracted from the 
supposed maiden's charms, and Eed Head thought 
nothing of it, but spoke to the snakes, upon which they 
became pacified and quiet. Shortly afterward the boat 
reached the landing upon the island. The marriage 
took place immediately; and the bride made presents 
of various rich gifts which had been furnished her by 
the old witch who inhabited the cloudy lodge. 

As they were sitting in the lodge, surrounded by the 
friends and relatives, the mother of the Eed Head re- 
garded the face of her new daughter-in-law for a long 
time with fixed attention. From this scrutiny she was 
convinced that this singular and hasty marriage boded 
no good to her son. She drew him aside, and disclosed 
to him her suspicions. 

"This can be no maiden," said she. "She has the 
figure and manners of a woman, but the countenance, 
and more especially the eyes, are beyond a doubt those 
of a man. ' ' 

The mother spoke truly, but Eed Head rejected her 
suspicions and rebuked her severely for entertaining, 
such notions of her own daughter-in-law. She still 
urged her doubts, which so vexed the husband that he 
broke his pipe-stem in her face and called her an owl. 

This act astonished the company, who sought an ex- 
planation; and it was no sooner given than the mock 
bride, rising with an air of offended dignity, informed 
the Eed Head that after receiving so gross an affront 
from his relatives she could not think of remaining 

184 



STRONG DESIRE AND RED SORCERER 

with him as his wife, but should forthwith return to 
her own friends. 

With a toss of the head, like that of an angry woman, 
Strong Desire left the lodge and walked away until he 
came to the beach of the island, near the spot where 
they had first landed. He was followed by Eed Head, 
who entreated him to remain, urging every motive and 
making all sorts of magnificent promises — none of 
which seemed to make the least impression. Strong 
Desire was very hard-hearted. During these appeals 
they had seated themselves upon the ground, and Red 
Head, in great affliction, reclined his head upon his 
fancied wife's lap. Strong Desire now changed his 
manner, was very kind and soothing, and suggested in 
the most winning accent that if Eed Head would sleep 
soundly for a while he might possibly dream himself 
out of all his troubles. Red Head, delighted at so 
happy a prospect, said that he would fall asleep im- 
mediately. 

"You have killed a good many men in your time, 
Red Head," said Strong Desire, by way of suggesting 
agreeable thoughts to the sorcerer. 

"Hundreds," answered Red Head, "and what is 
better, now that I am fairly settled in life by this happy 
marriage, I shall be able to give my whole attention to 
massacre." 

"And you will kill hundreds more," interposed 
Strong Desire, in the most insinuating manner imagi- 
nable. 

185 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

"Just so, my dear," Red Head replied, with a great 
leer, ' ' thousands. There will be no end to my delicious 
murders. I love dearly to kill people. I would like to 
kill you if you were not my wife. ' ' 

" There, there," said Strong Desire, with the coax- 
ing air of a little coquette, "go to sleep; that's a good 
EedHead." 

No other subject of conversation occurring to the 
chief, now that he had exhausted the delightful topic 
of wholesale murder, he straightway fell into a deep 
sleep. 

The chance so anxiously sought for had come; and 
Strong Desire, with a smiling eye, drawing his blade 
of grass with lightning swiftness once across the neck 
of the Red Head, severed the huge and wicked head 
from the body. 

In a moment, stripping off his woman's dress, under- 
neath which he had all along worn his male attire, 
Strong Desire seized the bleeding trophy, plunged into 
the lake, and swam safely over to the main shore. He 
had scarcely reached it, when, looking back, he saw 
amid the darkness the torches of persons come out in 
search of the newly married couple. He listened until 
they had found the headless body, and he heard their 
piercing shrieks of rage and sorrow as he took his way 
to the lodge of his kind adviser. 

The Little Old Woman Who Makes War was in an 
excellent humor, and she received Strong Desire with 
rejoicing. She admired his prudence and assured him 

186 



STRONG DESIRE AND RED SORCERER 

his bravery should never be questioned again. Lifting 
up the head, which she gazed upon with vast delight, 
she said he need only have brought the scalp. Cutting 
off a lock of the hair for herself, she told him he might 
now return with the head, which would be evidence of 
an achievement that would cause his own people to re- 
spect him. 

"On your way home," added the little old woman, 
"you will meet with but one difficulty. Maunkah- 
keesh, the Spirit of the Earth, requires an offering or 
sacrifice from all of her sons who perform extraordi- 
nary deeds. As you walk along in a prairie there will 
be an earthquake; the earth will open and divide the 
prairie in the middle. Take this partridge and throw 
it into the opening, and instantly spring over it." 

With many thanks to the little old witch, who had 
so faithfully befriended him, Strong Desire took his 
leave. Doing as she said he safely passed the earth- 
quake, and in due time arrived near his own village. 
Then he secretly hid his precious trophy. 

On entering the village, he found that his parents 
had returned from the place of their spring encamp- 
ment by the wood-side, and that they were in heavy 
sorrowing for their son, whom they supposed to be 
lost. One and another of the young men had pre- 
sented himself to the disconsolate parents and said, 
"Look up, I am your son," but when they looked up, 
they beheld not the familiar face of Strong Desire. 

Having been often deceived in this manner, when 

187 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

their own son in truth presented himself, they sat 
with their heads down and their eyes nearly blinded 
with weeping. It was some time before they could be 
prevailed upon to bestow a glance upon him. It was 
still longer before they could recognize him as Strong 
Desire, who had feared to draw water from the river 
at night. This youth's countenance was no longer that 
of a timid stripling; it was the face of a man who has 
seen and done great things, and who has the heart to 
do greater still. 

"When he recounted his adventures they believed him 
mad. The young men laughed at him — him, Strong 
Desire — who feared to walk to the river at night-time. 

He left the lodge, and before their laughter had 
ceased, returned with his trophy. He held aloft the 
head of the Eed Sorcerer, still leering, at prospect of 
a thousand future murders. It was easily recognized, 
and the young men who had scoffed at Strong Desire 
shrank into the corners out of sight. Strong Desire 
had conquered the terrible Eed Head! All doubts of 
the truth of his adventures were dispelled. 

He was greeted with joy and placed among the first 
warriors of the nation. He finally became a chief, and 
his family were ever after respected and esteemed. 



188 



XIV 
THE MAGIC PACKET 

A POOR man, called Iena, or the Wanderer, was in 
the habit of roaming about from place to place, 
forlorn, without relations, and almost helpless. He 
had often wished for a companion to share his solitude ; 
but who would think of joining his fortunes with those 
of a poor wanderer, who had no shelter in the world 
but such as his leather hunting-shirt provided, and no 
other household than the packet in which his hunting- 
shirt was laid away! 

One day Iena hung up his packet on the branch of 
a tree, and then set out in quest of game. 

On returning to the spot in the evening, he was sur- 
prised to find a small but neat lodge built in the place 
where he had left his packet ; and on looking in he be- 
held a beautiful maiden sitting on the further side of 
the lodge, with his packet lying beside her. 

During the day Iena had so far prospered in his 
sport as to kill a deer, which he now cast down at the 
lodge-door. 

The maiden did not pause to take the least notice of 
the hunter, or to give him a word of welcome, but ran 
out to see whether it was a large deer that he had 

189 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

brought. In her haste she stumbled and fell at the 
threshold. 

Iena looked at her with astonishment, and thought 
to himself, "I supposed I was blessed, but I find my 
mistake. Night-Hawk, ' ' said he, speaking aloud, "I 
will leave my game with you that you may feast on it. ' ' 

He then took up his packet and departed. After 
walking some time he came to another tree, on which 
he suspended his packet, as before, and the following 
morning went for the second time in search of game. 

Success again attended him, and he returned, bring- 
ing with him a deer. He found that a lodge had 
sprung up as before, just where he had hung his 
packet. He looked in and saw a beautiful maiden sit- 
ting alone, with his packet by her side. 

She arose and came out toward the deer which he had 
deposited at the door, and he immediately went into 
the lodge and sat by the fire, as he was weary with the 
day's hunt, which had carried him far away. 

The woman did not return, and wondering at her 
delay, Iena at last arose, peeped through the door of 
the lodge and beheld her greedily eating all the fat of 
the deer. He exclaimed : 

"I thought I was blessed, but I find I was mistaken." 
Then addressing the woman, "Poor Marten," said he, 
"feast on the game I have brought." 

He again took up his packet and departed. Then 
finding a tree, he hung it upon a branch, and the next 
morning again wandered off in quest of game. 

190 



THE MAGIC PACKET 

In the evening he returned, with his customary good 
luck, bringing in a fine deer, and again found that a 
lodge had taken the place of his packet. He gazed 
through an opening in the side of the lodge, and there 
was another beautiful woman sitting alone, with his 
packet by her side. 

"Oh!" he exclaimed, "it is the same as it was yes- 
terday and the day before that. I am Iena, the Wan- 
derer, and it is not the will of the Great Spirit that he 
should have a lodge, a woman, or the fat of the deer 
that he kills." 

So saying he entered the lodge, but the woman rose 
cheerfully, welcomed him home, and without delay or 
complaining brought in the deer, cut it up as it should 
be, and hung up the meat to dry. She then prepared 
a portion of it for the supper of the weary hunter, who 
was thinking to himself, "Now I am certainly blessed." 

And so it went on. He continued his practise of 
hunting every day, and the woman, on his return, 
always welcomed him, readily took charge of the meat, 
and promptly prepared his evening meal ; and he ever 
after lived a contented and happy man. 



191 



XV 
THE MAN WITH HIS LEG TIED UP 

AS a punishment for having once upon a time used 
that foot against a venerable medicine man, Aggo 
Dah Gauda had one leg looped up to his thigh, so that 
he was obliged to get along by hopping. By dint of 
practise he had become very skilful in this exercise, 
and he could make leaps which seemed almost incred- 
ible. 

Aggo had a beautiful daughter, and his chief care 
was to secure her from being carried off by the king of 
the buffalos, who was the ruler of all the herds of that 
kind, and had them entirely at his command to make 
them do as he willed. 

Dah Gauda, too, was quite an important person in 
his own way, for he lived in great state, having a log 
house of his own and a court-yard which extended from 
the sill of his front-door as many hundred miles west- 
ward as he chose to measure it. 

Although he might claim this extensive privilege of 
ground, he advised his daughter to keep within doors, 
and by no means to go far in the neighborhood. 
Otherwise she would be sure to be stolen away, as he 
was satisfied that the buffalo-king spent night and day 
lurking about, lying in wait to seize her. 

192 



THE MAN WITH HIS LEG TIED UP 

One sunshiny morning, when there were just two or 
three promising clouds rolling moistly about the sky, 
Aggo prepared to go out a-fishing; but before he left 
the lodge he reminded her of her strange and indus- 
trious lover, whom she had never seen. 

"My daughter," said he, "I am going out to fish, 
and as the day will be a pleasant one, you must recol- 
lect that we have an enemy near, who is constantly 
going about with two eyes that never close. Do not 
expose yourself out of the lodge." 

With this excellent advice, Aggo hopped off in high 
spirits. But he had scarcely reached the fishing- 
ground, when he heard a voice singing at a distance : 

Man with the leg tied up, 
Man with the leg tied up, 
Broken hip — hip — 
Hipped. 

Man with the leg tied up, 
Man with the leg tied up, 
Broken leg — leg — 
Legged. 

There was no one in sight, but Aggo heard the words 
quite plainly, and as he suspected the ditty to be the 
work of his enemies, the buffalos, he hopped home as 
fast as his one leg could carry him. 

Meantime, the daughter had no sooner been left 
alone in the lodge than she thought to herself : 

"It is hard to be thus forever kept in doors. But 
my father says it would be dangerous to venture 

193 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

abroad. I know what I will do. I will get on the top 
of the house, and there I can comb and dress my hair, 
and no one can harm me." 

She accordingly ascended the roof and busied her- 
self in untying and combing her beautiful hair ; for it 
was truly beautiful, not only of a fine, glossy quality, 
but so very long that it hung over the eaves of the 
house and reached down to the ground, as she sat 
dressing it. 

She was wholly occupied in this employment, without 
a thought of danger, when all of a sudden the king of 
the buffalos came dashing up with his herd of follow- 
ers. Making sure of her by means of her drooping 
tresses, he placed her upon the back of one of his 
favorite buffalos, and away he cantered over the 
plains. Plunging into a river that bounded his land, 
he bore her safely to his lodge on the other side. 

And now the buffalo-king, having secured the beau- 
tiful j)erson of Aggo Dah Gauda's daughter, set to 
work to make her heart his own — a little ceremony 
which it would have been, perhaps, wiser for his maj- 
esty, the king of the buffalos, to have attended to before 
he carried her off, for he now worked to little purpose. 
Although he labored with great zeal to gain her affec- 
tions, she sat pensive and disconsolate in the lodge 
among the other women. She scarcely ever spoke, nor 
did she take the least interest in the affairs of the 
king's household. 

To the king himself she paid no heed, and although 



THE MAN WITH HIS LEG TIED UP 

he breathed forth to her every soft and gentle word he 
could think of, she sat still and motionless, for all the 
world like one of the lowly bushes by the door of 
her father's lodge when the summer wind had died 
away. 

The king enjoined it upon the others in the lodge as 
a special edict, on pain of instant death, to give to 
Aggo's daughter everything that she wanted, and to 
be careful not to displease her. They set before her 
the choicest food. They gave her the seat of honor 
in the lodge. The king himself went out hunting to 
obtain the most dainty meats, both of animals and 
wild fowl, to pleasure her palate; and he treated her 
every morning to a ride upon one of the royal buffalos, 
who was so gentle in his motions as not even to disturb 
a single one of the tresses of the beautiful hair of 
Aggo's daughter as she paced along. 

And not content with these proofs of his attach- 
ment, the king would sometimes fast from all food, and 
having thus purified his spirit and cleared his voice, 
he would take his Indian flute, sit before the lodge, and 
give vent to his feelings in pensive echoes, something 
after this fashion: 

My sweetheart, 
My sweetheart, 

Ah me ! 
When I think of you, 
When 1 think of you, 

Ah me! 
What can I do, do, do? 
195 



THE INDIAX FAIRY BOOK 

How I love you, 
How I love you, 

Ah roe ! 
Do not bate me, 
Do not hate me, 

Ah me ! 
Speak — e'en berate me. 
When I think of you, 

Ah me ! 
What can I do, do, do 7 

In the meantime, Aggo Dah Gauda reached home, 
and finding that his daughter had been stolen, was so 
thoroughly aroused that he would have forthwith torn 
every hair from his head in indignation, had he not 
been entirely bald. This relief being out of the ques- 
tion, Aggo hopped off half a mile in every direction as 
an easy and natural vent to his feelings. First he 
hopped east, then he hopped west, next he hopped 
north, and again he hopped south, all in search of his 
daughter; till the one leg was fairly tired out. Then 
he sat down in his lodge, and resting himself a little, 
reflected. After that he vowed that his single leg 
should never know rest again until he had found his 
beautiful daughter and brought her home. For this 
purpose he immediately set out. 

Now that he proceeded more coolly, he could easily 
track the buffalo-king until he came to the banks of 
the river, where he saw that he had plunged in and 
swum over. There having been a frosty night or two 

19G 



THE MAN WITH HIS LEG TIED UP 

since, the water was so covered with thin ice that Aggo 
could not venture upon it, even with one leg. So he en- 
camped hard by till it became more solid, and then 
crossed over and pursued the trail. 

As he went along he saw branches broken off and 
strewed behind, which guided him in his course; for 
these had been purposely cast along by the daughter. 
And the manner in which she had accomplished it was 
this. Her hair was all untied when she was caught up, 
and being very long it took hold of the branches as 
they darted along, and it was these twigs that she broke 
off as signs to her father. 

When Aggo came to the king's lodge it was even- 
ing. Carefully approaching, he peeped through the 
sides, and saw his daughter sitting disconsolate. She 
immediately caught his eye, and knowing that it was 
her father come for her, she all at once appeared to re- 
lent in her heart. Asking for the royal dipper, she 
said to the king: 

"I will go and get you a drink of water." 

This token of submission delighted his majesty, 
and, high in hope, he waited with impatience for her 
return. 

Some time passed and at last he went out ; but noth- 
ing could be seen or heard of the captive daughter. 
Then calling together his followers, he sallied forth 
with them upon the plains. They had not gone far 
when they espied by the light of the moon, which was 

197 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

shining roundly just over the edge of the prairie, 
Aggo Dah Gauda, his daughter in his arms, making 
all speed with his one leg toward the west. 

The buffalo, set on by their king, raised a great shout 
and scampered off in pursuit. They thought to over- 
take Aggo in less than no time ; but although he had a 
single leg only, it was in such fine condition to go, that 
to every pace of theirs he hopped the length of a cedar- 
tree. 

But the buffalo-king was well assured that he would 
be able to overtake Aggo, hop as briskly as he might. 
It would be a mortal shame, thought the king, to be 
outstripped by a man with one leg tied up ; so, shout- 
ing and cheering and issuing orders on all sides, he 
set the swiftest of his herd upon the track, with strict 
commands to take Aggo dead or alive. And a curious 
sight it was to see. 

At one time a buffalo would gain handsomely upon 
Aggo, and be just at the point of laying hold of him, 
when off Aggo would hop, a good furlong, in an oblique 
line, wide out of his reach ; which bringing him nearly 
in contact with another of the herd, away he would go 
again, just as far off in another direction. 

And in this way Aggo kept the whole company of 
the buffalos zigzagging across the plain, with the poor 
king at their head, running to and fro, shouting among 
them and hurrying them about in the wildest way. 
It was an extraordinary road that Aggo was taking 
toward home; and after a time it so puzzled and be- 

198 



THE MAN WITH HIS LEG TIED UP 

wildered the buffalos that they were driven half out 
of their wits, and they roared and brandished their 
tails and foamed, as if they would put out of counte- 
nance and frighten out of sight the old man in the 
moon, who was looking on all the time, just above the 
edge of the prairie. 

As for the king himself, he lost all patience at last 
at the absurd idea of chasing a man with one leg all 
night long, so calling his herd together, he fled in dis- 
gust toward the west, and never more appeared in all 
that part of the country. 

Aggo, relieved of his pursuers, hopped off a hundred 
steps in one, till he reached the stream, crossed it in a 
twinkling of the eye, and bore his daughter in triumph 
to his lodge. 

In the course of time Aggo's beautiful daughter 
married a very worthy young warrior, who was neither 
a buffalo-king nor so much as the owner of any more 
of the buffalos than a splendid skin robe which he 
wore, with great effect, thrown over his shoulders, on 
his wedding-day. On which occasion, Aggo Dah 
Gauda hopped about on his one leg livelier than ever. 



199 



XVI 
LEELINAU, THE LOST DAUGHTER 

LEELINAU was the favorite daughter of a hunter, 
who lived on the lake shore near the base of the 
lofty highlands called Kaug Wudjoo. 

From her earliest youth Leelinau was observed to 
be thoughtful and retiring. She passed much of her 
time in solitude and seemed ever to prefer the com- 
panionship of her own shadow to the society of the 
lodge-circle. 

Whenever slie could leave her father's lodge she 
would fly to remote haunts and recesses in the woods, 
or sit in lonely reverie upon some high promontory 
of rock overlooking the lake. In such places she would 
often linger long, with her face turned upward, in con- 
templation of the air, as if she were invoking her guard- 
ian spirit and beseeching him to lighten her sadness. 

But of all the leafy haunts, none drew her steps 
toward it so often as a forest of pines on the open 
shore, called Manitowok, or the Sacred Wood. It was 
one of those hallowed places which is the resort of 
the little wild men of the woods, and of the turtle 
spirits or fairies which delight in romantic scenes 

200 



LEELINAU, THE LOST DAUGHTER 

Owing to this circumstance, its green retirement was 
seldom visited by Indians, who feared to fall under 
the influence of its mischievous inhabitants. When- 
ever they were compelled by stress of weather to make 
a landing on this part of the coast, they never failed 
to leave an offering of tobacco or some other token, to 
show that they desired to stand well with the proprie- 
tors of the fairy ground. 

To this sacred spot Leelinau had made her way at 
an early age, gathering strange flowers and plants, 
which she would bring home to her parents, and re- 
lating to them all the haps and mishaps that had oc- 
curred in her rambles. 

Although they discountenanced her frequent visits 
to the place, they were not able to restrain them, for 
she was of so gentle and delicate a temper that they 
feared to thwart her. 

Her attachment to the fairy wood, therefore, grew 
with her years. If she wished to solicit her guardian 
spirits to procure pleasant dreams, or any other 
maiden favor, Leelinau repaired to the Manitowok. 
If her father remained abroad in the hunt later than 
usual, and it was feared that he had been overwhelmed 
by the tempest or had met with some other mischance, 
Leelinau offered up her prayers for safety at the Mani- 
towok. It was there that she fasted, mused, and 
strolled. 

She at length became so engrossed by the fairy pines 
that her parents began to suspect that some evil spirit 
201 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

had enticed her to its haunts and had cast upon her 
a charm which she had not the power to resist. 

This belief was confirmed when, one day, her mother, 
who had secretly followed her, overheard her murmur- 
ing to some unknown and invisible companion, appeals 
like these: 

' ' Spirit of the dancing leaves ! ' ' whispered Leelinau, 
"hear a throbbing heart in its sadness. Spirit of the 
foaming stream! visit thou my nightly pillow, shed- 
ding over it silver dreams of mountain brook and 
pebbly rivulet. Spirit of the starry night! lead my 
foot-prints to the blushing mis-kodeed, or where the 
burning passion-flower shines with carmine hue. 
Spirit of the greenwood plume ! ' ' she concluded, turn- 
ing with passionate gaze to the beautiful young pines 
which stood waving their green beauty over her head, 
"shed on me, on Leelinau the sad, thy leafy fragrance, 
such as spring unfolds from sweetest flowers, or hearts 
that to each other show their inmost grief. Spirits! 
hear, oh, hear a maiden's prayer!" 

Day by day these strange communings with unseen 
beings drew away the heart of Leelinau more and 
more from the simple duties of the lodge, and she 
walked among her people, melancholy and silent, like 
a spirit who had visited them from another land. 

The pastimes which engaged the frolic moments of 
her young companions passed by her as little trivial 
pageants in which she had no concern. 

When the girls of the neighboring lodges assem- 
202 



LEELINAU, THE LOST DAUGHTER, 

bled to play before the lodge-door at the favorite 
game of pappus-e-kowaun, or the block and string, 
Leelinau would sit vacantly by, or enter so feebly into 
the spirit of the play as to show that it was irksome to 
her. 

Again, in the evening, when the young people formed 
a ring around the lodge, and the piepeendjigun, or 
leather and bone, passed rapidly from one to the other, 
she either handed it along without attempting to play, 
or if she took a part, it was with no effort to succeed. 

The time of the corn-gathering had come, and the 
young people of the tribe were assembled in the field, 
busy in plucking the ripened maize. One of the girls, 
noted for her beauty, had found a red ear, and every 
one congratulated her that a brave admirer was on 
his way to her father's lodge. She blushed, and hid- 
ing the trophy in her bosom, thanked the Good Spirit 
that it was a red ear, and not a crooked, that she had 
found. 

Presently it chanced that one who was there among 
the young men espied in the hands of Leelinau, who 
had plucked it indifferently, one of the crooked kind, 
and at once the word "Wa-ge-min!" was shouted 
aloud through the field, and the whole circle was set 
in a roar. 

' ' The thief is in the corn-field ! ' ' exclaimed the young 
man, Iagoo by name, and famous in the tribe for his 
mirthful powers of story-telling; "see you not the old 
man stooping as he enters the field? See you not signs 

203 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

that he crouched as he crept in the dark? Is it not 
plain by this mark on the stalk that he was heavily 
bent in his back? Old man! be nimble, or some one 
will take thee while thou art taking the ear." 

These questions Iagoo accompanied with the action 
of one bowed with age stealthily entering the corn- 
field. He went on: 

"See how he stoops as he breaks off the ear. 
Nushka! He seems for a moment to tremble. 
Walker, be nimble! Hooli! It is plain the old man 
is the thief." 

He turned suddenly where she sat in the circle, 
pensively regarding the crooked ear which she held 
in her hand, and exclaimed : 

"Leelinau, the old man is thine !" 

Laughter rang merrily through the corn-field, but 
Leelinau, casting down upon the ground the crooked 
ear of maize, walked pensively away. 

The next morning the eldest son of a neighboring 
chief called at her father's lodge. He was quite ad- 
vanced in years; but he enjoyed such renown in bat- 
tle, and his name was so famous in the hunt, that 
the parents accepted him as a suitor for their daugh- 
ter. They hoped that his shining qualities would 
draw back the thoughts of Leelinau from that spirit- 
land whither she seemed to have wholly directed her 
affections. 

It was this chief's son whom Iagoo had pictured 
as the corn-taker, but, without objecting to his age or 

20-1 



LEELINAU, THE LOST DAUGHTER 

giving any other reason, Leelinau firmly declined his 
proposals. The parents ascribed the young daugh- 
ter's hesitancy to maiden shyness, and paying no fur- 
ther heed to her refusal, fixed a day for the marriage- 
visit to the lodge. 

The young warrior came to the lodge-door, and 
Leelinau refused to see him, informing her parents, 
at the same time, that she would never consent to the 
match. 

It had been her custom to pass many of her hours 
in her favorite place of retirement under a broad- 
topped young pine, whose leaves whispered in every 
wind that blew; but most of all in that gentle mur- 
mur of the air at the evening hour, dear to lovers, 
when the twilight steals on. 

Thither she now repaired, and, while reclining pen- 
sively against the young pine-tree, she fancied that 
she heard a voice addressing her. At first it was 
scarcely more than a sigh; presently it grew more 
clear, and she heard it distinctly whisper — 

"Maiden! think me not a tree; but thine own dear 
lover; fond to be with thee in my tall and blooming 
strength, with the bright green nodding plume that 
waves above thee. Thou art leaning on my breast, 
Leelinau; lean forever there and be at peace. Fly 
from men who are false and cruel, and quit the tumult 
of their dusty strife for this quiet, lonely shade. Over 
thee I will fling my arms, fairer than the lodge's roof. 
I will breathe a perfume like that of flowers over thy 

205 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

happy evening rest. In my bark canoe I'll waft thee 
over the waters of the sky-blue lake. I will deck the 
folds of thy mantle with the sun's last rays. Come 
and wander with me on the mountains, a fairy free!" 

Leelinau drank in with eager ear these magical 
words. Her heart was fixed. No warrior's son 
should clasp her hand. She listened in the hope to 
hear the airy voice speak more ; but it only repeated, 
"Again! again!" and entirely ceased. 

On the eve of the day fixed for her marriage, Lee- 
linau decked herself in her best garments. She ar- 
ranged her hair according to the fashion of her tribe 
and put on all of her maiden ornaments in beautiful 
array. With a smile, she presented herself before her 
parents. 

"I am going," she said, "to meet my little lover, 
the Chieftain of the Green Plume, who is waiting for 
me at the Spirit Grove." 

Her face was radiant with joy, and the parents, 
taking what she had said as her own fanciful way of 
expressing acquiescence in their plans, wished her good 
fortune in the happy meeting. 

"I am going," she continued, addressing her mother 
as they left the lodge, "I am going from one who has 
watched my infancy and guarded my youth; who has 
given me medicine when I was sick and prepared my 
food when I was well. I am going from a father who 
has ranged the forest to procure the choicest skins 

206 



LEELINAU, THE LOST DAUGHTER 

for my dress and kept his lodge supplied with the best 
spoil of the chase. I am going from a lodge which 
has been my shelter from the storms of winter and 
my shield from the heats of summer. Farewell, my 
parents, farewell !" 

So saying, she sped faster than any could follow her 
to the margin of the fairy wood, and in a moment was 
lost to sight. 

As she had often thus withdrawn herself from the 
lodge, the parents were not in fear but confidently 
awaited her return. Hour chased hour, as the clouds 
of evening rolled up in the west; darkness came on, 
but no daughter returned. With torches they has- 
tened to the wood, but although they lit up every dark 
recess and leafy gloom, their search was in vain. Lee- 
linau was nowhere to be seen. They called aloud, in 
lament, upon her name, but she answered not. 

Suns rose and set, but nevermore in their light did 
the bereaved parents' eyes behold the lost form of 
their beloved child. Their daughter was lost indeed. 
Whither she had vanished no mortal tongue could tell ; 
although it chanced that a company of fishermen, who 
were spearing fish near the Siprit Grove, descried 
something that seemed to resemble a maiden's figure 
standing on the shore. As the evening was mild and 
the waters calm, they cautiously pulled their canoe to- 
ward land, but the slight ripple of their oars excited 
alarm. The figure fled in haste, but they could recog- 

207 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 



nise in the shape and dress as she ascended the bank, 
the lost daughter, and they saw the green plumes of 
her fairy-lover waving over his forehead as he glided 

pines. 



lightly through the forest of youn 




20S 



XVII 
THE WINTER SPIRIT AND HIS VISITOR 

AN old man was sitting alone in his lodge by the 
side of a frozen stream. It was the close of win- 
ter, and his fire was almost out. He appeared very 
old and very desolate. His locks were white with age, 
and he trembled in every joint. Day after day passed 
in solitude, and he heard nothing but the sounds of 
the tempest, sweeping before it the new-fallen snow. 

One day as his fire was just dying, a handsome young 
man approached and entered his dwelling. His cheeks 
were red with the blood of youth; his eyes sparkled 
with life; and a smile played upon his lips. He 
walked with a light and quick step. His forehead was 
bound with a wreath of sweet grass, in place of the 
warrior's frontlet, and he carried a bunch of flowers 
in his hand. 

"Ah! my son," said the old man, "I am happy to 
see you. Come in. Come, tell me of your adventures, 
and what strange lands you have been to see. Let us 
pass the night together. I will tell you of my prowess 
and exploits, and what I can perform. You shall do 
the same, and we will amuse ourselves." 

He then drew from his sack a curiously wrought 

209 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

antique pipe, and having filled it with tobacco ren- 
dered mild by an admixture of certain dried leaves, 
he handed it to his guest. When this ceremony was 
attended to, they began to speak. 

"I blow my breath," said the old man, "and the 
streams stand still. The water becomes stiff and hard 
as clear stone." 

"I breathe," said the young man, "and flowers 
spring up all over the plains. ' ' 

"I shake my locks," retorted the old man, "and 
snow covers the land. The leaves fall from the trees 
at my command, and my breath blows them away. 
The birds rise from the water and fly to a distant 
land. The animals hide themselves from the glance 
of my eye, and the very ground where I walk becomes 
as hard as flint." 

"I shake my ringlets," rejoined the young man, 
"and warm showers of soft rain fall upon the earth. 
The plants lift up their heads out of the ground like 
the eyes of children glistening with delight. My voice 
recalls the birds. The warmth of my breath unlocks 
the streams. Music fills the groves wherever I walk, 
and all nature welcomes my approach." 

At length the sun began to rise. A gentle warmth 
came over the place. The tongue of the old man be- 
came silent. The robin and the blue-bird began to 
sing on the top of the lodge. The stream began to 
murmur by the door, and the fragrance of growing 
herbs and flowers came softly on the breeze. 
210 



WINTER SPIRIT AND HIS VISITOR 

Daylight fully revealed to the young man the char- 
acter of his entertainer. When he looked upon him 
he saw the visage of Peboan, the icy old Winter- 
Spirit. Streams began to flow from the old man's 
eyes. As the sun increased he grew less and less in 
stature, and presently he had melted completely away. 
Nothing remained on the place of his lodge-fire but the 
mis-kodeed, a small white flower with a pink border, 
which the young visitor, Seegwun, the Spirit of Spring, 
placed in the wreath upon his brow, as his first trophy 
in the North, 




211 



xvni 

THE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS 

ALONG-, long time ago, a little boy was living with 
his sister entirely alone in an uninhabited coun- 
try far out in the north-west. He was called the Boy 
That Carries the Ball on his Back, from an idea that 
he possessed magical powers. This boy was in the 
habit of meditating alone and asking within himself 
whether there were other beings similar to himself and 
his sister on the earth. 

When he grew up to manhood, he inquired of his 
sister whether she knew of any human beings besides 
themselves. She replied that she did; and that there 
was, at a great distance, a large village. 

As soon as he heard this, he said to his sister : 

"I am now a young man and very much in want of 
a companion." 

He asked his sister to make him several pairs of 
moccasins. She complied with his request; and as 
soon as he received the moccasins, he took up his war- 
club and set out in quest of the distant village. 

He traveled on till he came to a small wigwam, in 
which he discovered a very old woman sitting alone 

212 



THE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS 

by the fire. As soon as she saw the stranger, she 
invited him in, and thus addressed him: 

''My poor grandchild, I suppose you are one of 
those who seek for the distant village, from which no 
person has ever yet returned. Unless your guardian 
is more powerful than the guardians of those who have 
gone before you, you will share a similar fate to theirs. 
Be careful to provide yourself with the invisible bones 
those people use in the medicine-dance, for without 
these you cannot succeed. " 

After she had thus spoken, she gave him the fol- 
lowing directions for his journey: 

"When you come near to the village which you seek, 
you will see in the center a large lodge, in which the 
chief of the village, who has two daughters, resides. 
Before the door there is a great tree, which is smooth 
and without bark. On this tree, about the height of 
a man from the ground, is hung a small lodge, in which 
these two false daughters dwell. It is here that so 
many have been destroyed, and among them your two 
elder brothers. Be wise, my grandchild, and abide 
strictly by my directions." 

The old woman then gave to the young man the 
bones which were to secure his success; and she in- 
formed him with great care how he was to proceed. 

Placing them in his bosom, Onwee Bahmondang, or 
The Wearer of the Ball, continued his journey and kept 
eagerly on until he arrived at the village of which he 
was in search. Here, on gazing around, he saw both 

213 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

the tree and the lodge which the old woman had men- 
tioned. 

He at once bent his steps toward the tree, and ap- 
proaching, endeavored to reach the suspended lodge. 
But all his efforts were in vain; for as often as he 
attempted to reach it, the tree began to tremble, and 
it soon shot up so that the lodge could hardly be per- 
ceived. 

He bethought him of his guardian spirit, so invok- 
ing his aid and changing himself into a squirrel, he 
mounted nimbly up again, in the hope that the lodge 
would not now escape him. But to his disappointment 
away shot the lodge, climb as briskly as he might. 

Panting and out of breath, he at last remembered 
the instructions of the old woman. Drawing from his 
bosom one of the bones, he thrust it into the trunk 
of the tree and rested himself upon it to be ready to 
start again. 

As often as he wearied of climbing, for even a squir- 
rel cannot climb forever, he repeated the little cere- 
mony of the bones; but whenever he came near the 
lodge and put forth his hand to touch it, the tree would 
shoot up as before and carry the lodge up far beyond 
his reach. 

At length the bones being all gone, and the lodge 
well-nigh out of sight, he began to despair, for the 
earth, too, had long since vanished entirely from his 
view. 

Summoning his whole heart, he resolved to try once 

214 



THE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS 

more. On and up he went, but as soon as lie put forth 
his hand to touch it, the tree again shook, and away 
went the lodge. 

One more endeavor, brave Onwee, and in he goes; 
for having now reached the arch of heaven, the fly- 
away lodge could go no higher. 

Onwee entered with a fearless step and beheld the 
two wicked sisters sitting opposite each other. He 
asked their names. The one on his left hand called 
herself Azhabee, and the one on the right, Negahna- 
bee. 

After talking with them a little while, he discov- 
ered that whenever he addressed the one on his left 
hand, the tree would tremble as before and settle down 
to its former place ; but when he addressed the one on 
his right hand, it would again shoot upward. 

When he thus perceived that by addressing the one 
on his left hand the tree would descend, he continued 
to do so until it had again settled down to its place 
near the earth. Then seizing his war-club, he said to 
the sisters : 

"You who have caused the death of so many of 
my brethren I will now put an end to, and thus have 
revenge for those you have destroyed." 

As he spoke this he raised the club and with one 
blow laid the two wicked women dead at his feet. 

Onwee then descended, and learned that these sis- 
ters had a brother living with their father, who had 
shared in the spoils of all such as the wicked sisters 

215 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

had betrayed. This youth would now pursue him for 
having put an end to their wicked profits, so Onwee set 
off at random, not knowing whither he went. 

The father, coming in the evening to visit the lodge 
of his daughters, discovered what had happened. He 
immediately sent word to his son that the sisters had 
been slain, and that there were no more spoils to be 
had. Now this news greatly inflamed the brother's 
temper, especially the woful announcement at the end. 
He was chafing and half beside himself with rage. 

''Oh," he cried. "The person who has done this 
must be that Boy That Carries the Ball on his Back. I 
know his mode of going about his business, and since 
he would not allow himself to be killed by my sisters, 
he shall have the honor of dying by my hand. I will 
pursue him and have revenge." 

"It is well, my son," replied the father; "the spirit 
of your life grant you success. But I counsel you to 
be wary in the pursuit. Onwee Bahmondang is a cun- 
ning youth. It is a strong spirit who has put him on 
to do this injury to us, and he will try to deceive you 
in every way. Above all, avoid tasting food till you 
succeed ; for if you break your fast before you see his 
blood, your power will be destroyed." 

The son took this fatherly advice all in good part, 
except that portion which enjoined upon him to ab- 
stain from staying his stomach ; over that command he 
made a number of wry faces, for the brother of the 
two wicked sisters had, among numerous noble gifts, 

216 



THE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS 

a very noble appetite. Nevertheless, he took up his 
weapons and departed at the top of his speed in pur- 
suit of Onwee Bahrnondang. 

Onwee, finding that he was closely followed, climbed 
up into one of the tallest sycamore-trees and shot 
forth the magic arrows with which he had provided 
himself. 

Seeing that his pursuer was not turned back by his 
arrows, Onwee renewed his flight ; and when he found 
himself hard pressed and his enemy close behind him, 
he transformed himself into the skeleton of a moose 
that had been killed many moons before. He then 
remembered the moccasins which his sister had given 
him, and taking a pair of them, he placed them near 
the skeleton. 

"Go," said he to them, "to the end of the earth." 

The moccasins then left him, and their tracks re- 
mained. 

The angry brother at length came to the skeleton 
of the moose. When he perceived that the track he 
had been long pursuing did not stop there, he con- 
tinued to follow it up till he arrived at the end of the 
earth, where, for all his trouble, he found only a pair 
of moccasins. 

Vexed that he had been outwitted by following a 
pair of moccasins instead of their owner, he com- 
plained bitterly, resolving not to give up his revenge 
and to be more wary in the future. 

He then called to mind the skeleton he had met with 
217 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

on his way, and concluded that it must be the object 
of his search. 

So the brother retraced his steps toward the skele- 
ton, but to his surprise it had disappeared, and the 
tracks of the "Wearer of the Ball were in another di- 
rection. He now became faint with hunger, and lost 
heart; but when he remembered the blood of his sis- 
ters, and that he should not be allowed to enjoy a meal, 
or so much as a mouthful, until he had put an end to 
Onwee Bahmondang, he plucked up his spirits and de- 
termined again to pursue. 

Onwee, finding that he was closely followed and 
that the hungry brother was approaching very fast, 
changed himself into a very old man, with two daugh- 
ters. They lived in a large lodge in the center of a 
beautiful garden, which was filled with everything 
that could delight the eye or was pleasant to the taste. 
He made himself appear so very old as to be unable 
to leave his lodge and to require his daughters to bring 
him food and wait on him, as though he had been a 
mere child. The garden also had the appearance of 
old age, with its ancient bushes and hanging branches 
and decrepit vines loitering lazily about in the sun. 

Meanwhile the brother kept on until he was nearly 
starved and ready to sink to the earth. He exclaimed, 
with a long-drawn and most mournful sigh : 

"Oh! I will forget the blood of my sisters, for I 
am starving. Oh! oh!" 

But again he thought of the blood of his sisters, 

218 



THE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS 

and what a fine appetite he would have if he should 
ever be allowed to eat anything again, and once more 
he resolved to pursue and to be content with nothing 
short of the amplest revenge. 

He pushed on till he came to the beautiful garden. 
He advanced toward the lodge. 

As soon as the fairy daughters perceived him, they 
ran and told their father that a stranger approached. 

Their father replied, "Invite him in, my children, 
invite him in. ' ' 

They did so promptly, and, by the command of their 
father, they boiled some corn and prepared several 
other palatable dishes. The savor was most delicious 
to the nostrils of the hungry brother, who had not the 
least suspicion of the sport that was going on at his 
expense. 

He was faint and weary with travel, and he felt that 
he could endure fasting no longer ; for his appetite was 
terribly inflamed by the sight of the choice food that 
was steaming before him. 

He fell to and partook heartily of the meal ; and by 
so doing he was overcome and lost his right of re- 
venge. All at once he forgot the blood of his sisters, 
and even the village of his nativity ; he also forgot his 
father's lodge, and his whole past life. He ate so 
keenly, and came and went to the choice dishes so 
often, that drowsiness at length overpowered him, and 
he soon fell into a profound sleep. 

Onwee Bahmondang watched his opportunity, and 

219 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

as soon as he saw that the false brother's sleep was 
sound, he resumed his youthful form and sent off the 
two fairy daughters and the old garden. Then draw- 
ing the magic-ball from his back, and turning it into 
a great war-club, he fetched the slumbering brother 
a mighty blow, which sent him away too. And thus 
did Onwee Bahmondang vindicate his title as The 
Wearer of the Ball. 

Such was the great force and weight of the club with 
which he had despatched the brother of the two wicked 
women that it swung Onwee straight around, and he 
found himself in a large village, surrounded by a great 
crowd of people. At the door of a beautiful lodge 
stood his sister, smiling, and ready to invite him in. 
Onwee entered, and hanging up his war-club and the 
enchanted moccasins, he rested from his labors and 
smoked his evening pipe, with the admiration and ap- 
proval of the whole world. 

With one exception only, Onwee Bahmondang had 
the hearty praises of all the people. 

Now it happened that there lived in this same vil- 
lage an envious and boastful fellow, who had been 
once a chief. Always coming home badly whipped, he 
had been put out of office, and now spent his time about 
the place, proclaiming certain great things which he 
had in his eye and which he meant to do — one of these 
days. 

This man's name was Ko-ko, the Owl; and hearing 
much of the wonderful achievements of the Wearer 
220 



THE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS 

of the Ball, Ko-ko put on a big look and announced 
that he was going to do something extraordinary him- 
self. 

Onwee Bahmondang, he said, had not half done his 
work, and he, Ko-ko, meant to go on the ground and 
finish it up as it should be. 

He began by procuring an oak ball, which he thrust 
down his back, and, confident in its magical powers, 
he, too, called himself The Wearer of the Ball. In 
fact it was the self-same ball that Onwee had employed, 
except that the magic had entirely gone out of it. Com- 
ing by night in the shadow of Onwee 's lodge, this bad 
fellow thrust his arm in at the door and stealthily pos- 
sessed himself of the enchanted moccasins. He would 
have taken away Onwee 's war-club, too, if he could 
have carried it; but although he was twice the size 
and girth of Onwee, he had not the strength to lift 
it; so he borrowed a club from an old chief, who was 
purblind and mistook Ko-ko for his brother, who was 
a brave man. This accomplished, Ko-ko raised a ter- 
rible tumult with his voice and a great dust with his 
heels, and set out. 

He had traveled all day, when he came to a small 
wigwam, on looking into which he discovered a very 
old woman sitting alone by the fire ; just as Onwee had 
before. 

This is the wigwam, said Ko-ko, and this is the old 
woman. 

"What are you looking for?" asked the old woman. 
221 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

"I want to find the lodge with the wicked young 
women in it, those who slay travelers and steal their 
trappings," answered Ko-ko. 

"You mean the two young women who lived in the 
flying lodge ? ' ' asked the old woman. 

"The same," answered Ko-ko. "I am going to kill 
them." 

With this he gave a great flourish with his bor- 
rowed club, and looked as desperate and murderous 
as he could. 

"They were slain yesterday by The Wearer of the 
Ball," said the old woman. 

Ko-ko looked around for the door in a very owlish 
way and heaved a short hem from his chest. Then he 
acknowledged that he had heard something to that ef- 
fect down in one of the villages. 

"But there's the brother. I'll have a chance at 
him," said Ko-ko. 

"He is dead, too," said the old woman. 

"Is there then nobody left for me to kill?" cried 
Ko-ko. "Must I then go back without any blood upon 
my hands?" 

He made as if he could shed tears over his sad mis- 
hap. 

"The father is still living; and you will find him 
in the lodge, if you have a mind to call on him. He 
would like to see the Owl," the old woman added. 

"He shall," replied Ko-ko. "Have you any bones 
222 



THE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS 

about the house; for I suppose I shall have to climb 
that tree." 

"Oh, yes; plenty," answered the old woman. "You 
can have as many as you want. ' ' 

And she gave him a handful of fish-bones, which 
Ko-ko thrust into his bosom, taking them to be the 
Invisible Tallies which had helped Onwee Bahmondang 
in climbing the magical tree. 

"Thank you," said Ko-ko, taking up his club and 
striding toward the door. 

"Will you not have a little advice," said the old 
woman. "This is a dangerous business you are going 
on." 

Ko-ko turned about and laughed to scorn the pro- 
posal. Then putting forth his right foot from the 
lodge first, an observance in which he had great hopes, 
he started for the lodge of the wicked father. 

Ko-ko ran very fast, as if he feared he should lose 
the chance of massacring any member of the wicked 
family, and soon came in sight of the lodge hanging 
upon the tree. 

He then slackened his pace and crept forward with 
a wary eye, lest somebody might chance to be look- 
ing out at the door. All was still up there, however, 
and Ko-ko clasped the tree and began to climb. 

Away went the lodge, and up went Ko-ko, puffing 
and panting, after it. And it was not a great while 
before the Owl had puffed and panted away all the wind 

223 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

he had to spare; and yet the lodge kept flying aloft, 
higher, higher. What was to be done! 

Ko-ko, of course, bethought him of the bones, for 
that was just what, as he knew, had occurred to Onwee 
Bahmondang under the like circumstances. 

He had the bones in his bosom; but first it was nec- 
essary for him to be a squirrel. He immediately 
called on several guardian spirits whom he knew of 
by name, and requested them to convert him into a 
squirrel. But not one of all of them seemed to pay 
the slightest attention to his request; for there he 
hung, the same heavy-limbed, big-headed, be-clubbed, 
and be-blanketed Ko-ko as ever. 

He then desired that they would turn him into an 
opossum; an application which met with the same 
luck as the previous one. After this he petitioned to 
be a wolf, a gophir, a dog, or a bear — if they would 
be so obliging. The guardian spirits were either all 
deaf, or indifferent to his wishes, or absent on some 
other business. 

Ko-ko, in spite of all his begging and supplication 
and beseeching, was obliged to be still Ko-ko. 

" However, the bones are good," he said to himself. 
"I shall get a nice rest, at any rate, if I am forced to 
climb as I am." 

"With this he drew out one of the bones from his 
bosom, and shouting aloud, "Ho! ho! who is there?" 
he thrust it into the trunk of the tree and would have 
indulged himself in a rest; but being no more than a 

224 



THE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS 

common fish-bone, without the slightest savor of 
magic in it, it snapped with Ko-ko, who came tumbling 
down, with the door of the lodge, which he had shaken 
loose, rattling after him. 

"Ho! ho! who is there?" cried the wicked father, 
making Ms appearance at the opening and looking 
clown. 

"It is I, Onwee Bahmondang!" cried Ko-ko, think- 
ing to frighten the wicked father. 

"Ah! it is you, is it? I will be there presently," 
called the old man. "Do not be in haste to go 
away ! ' ' 

Ko-ko, observing that the old man was in earnest, 
scrambled up from the ground and set off: promptly 
at his highest rate of speed. 

When he looked back and saw that the wicked fa- 
ther was gaining upon him, Ko-ko mounted a tree, 
as had Onwee Bahmondang before. Then he fired off 
a number of arrows, but as they were no more than 
common arrows, he got nothing by it, but was obliged 
to descend and run again for his life. 

As he hurried on he encountered the skeleton of a 
moose, into which he would have transformed him- 
self; but not having the slightest confidence in any 
one of all the guardians who should have helped him, 
he passed on. 

The wicked father was hot in pursuit and Ko-ko 
was suffering terribly for lack of wind, when luckily 
he remembered the enchanted moccasins. He would 

225 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

not send them to the end of the earth, as had Onwee 
Bahniondang. 

"I will improve on that dull fellow," said Ko-ko. 
"I will put them on myself." 

Accordingly, Ko-ko had just time to draw on the 
moccasins when the wicked father came in sight. 

"Go now!" cried Ko-ko, giving orders to the en- 
chanted moccasins ; and go they did. But to the aston- 
ishment of the Owl, they turned immediately about in 
the way in which the wicked father was furiously ap- 
proaching. 

"The other way! the other way!" cried Ko-ko. 

Cry as loud as he would, the enchanted moccasins 
would keep on in their own course ; and before he could 
shake himself out of them, they had run him directly 
into the face of the wicked father. 

"What do you mean, you Owl?" cried the wicked 
father, falling upon Ko-ko with a huge club, and count- 
ing his ribs at every stroke. 

"I cannot help it, good man," answered Ko-ko. "I 
tried my best — " 

Ko-ko would have gone the other way, but the en- 
chanted moccasins kept hurrying him forward. 

"Stand off, will you?" cried the old man. 

By this time the moccasins were taking him past, 
allowing the wicked father chance to bestow no more 
than five-and-twenty more blows upon Ko-ko. 

"Stop!" cried the old man again. "You are run- 
ning away. Ho! ho! you are a coward!" 

22G 



THE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS 

"I am not, good man," answered Ko-ko, carried 
away by the magical shoes, "I assure you." But ere 
he could finish his avowal, the moccasins had hurried 
him out of sight. 

"At any rate, I shall soon be home at this speed," 
said Ko-ko to himself. 

The moccasins seemed to know his thoughts; for 
just then they gave a sudden leap, slipped away from 
his feet, and left the Owl flat upon his back! while 
they glided home by themselves to the lodge of Onwee 
Bahmondang, where they belonged. 

A party of hunters passing that way after several 
days, found Ko-ko sitting among the bushes, looking 
greatly bewildered. When they inquired of him how 
he had succeeded with the wicked father at the lodge, 
he answered that he had demolished the whole estab- 
lishment, but that his name was not Ko-ko, but Onwee 
Bahmondang; saying which, he ran away into the 
woods, and was never seen more. 




227 



XIX 
THE WEENDIGOES AND THE BONE-DWARF 

THERE once lived a man and his wife and their 
son in a lonely forest. The father went forth 
every day, according to the custom of the Indians, to 
hunt for food to supply his family. 

One day while he was absent, his wife, on going out 
of the lodge, looked toward the lake that was near 
and saw a very large man walking on the water, com- 
ing fast toward the lodge. He was already so near 
that she could not escape by flight, even if she had 
wished to. 

"What shall I say to the monster?" she thought to 
herself. 

As he advanced rapidly, she ran in, and taking the 
hand of her son, a boy of three or four years old, she 
led him out. Speaking very loud, "See, my son," she 
said, "your grandfather"; and then added in a tone of 
appeal and supplication, "he will have pity on us." 

The giant approached and said, with a loud ha ! ha ! 
"Yes, my son"; and added, addressing the woman, 
"Have you anything to eat?" 

By good luck the lodge was well supplied with meats 
of various kinds. The woman thought to please him 
by handing him these, which were savory and care- 

228 



WEENDIGOES AND THE BONE-DWARF 

fully prepared. But he pushed them away in disgust, 
saying, "I smell fire"; and not waiting to be invited, 
he seized upon the carcass of a deer which lay by the 
door and despatched it almost without stopping to take 
breath. 

When the hunter came home he was surprised to 
see the monster, he was so very frightful. He had 
again brought a deer, which he had no sooner put down 
than the cannibal seized it, tore it in pieces, and de- 
voured it as though he had been fasting for a week. 
The hunter looked on in fear and astonishment, and in 
a whisper he told his wife that he was afraid for their 
lives, as this monster was one of those monsters whom 
Indians call Weendigoes. He did not even dare to 
speak to him, nor did the cannibal say a word, but as 
soon as he had finished his meal, stretched himself 
down and fell asleep. 

In the evening the Weendigo told the people that 
he should go out a-hunting; and he strided away to- 
ward the North. Toward morning he returned, all 
besmeared with blood, but he did not make known 
where he had been or of what kind of game he had 
been in quest ; but the hunter and his wife had dread- 
ful suspicions of the sport in which he had been en- 
gaged. "Withal his hunger did not seem to be staid, 
for he took up the deer which the hunter had brought 
in and devoured it eagerly, leaving the family to make 
their meal of the dried meats which had been reserved 
in the lodge. 

229 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

In this manner the Weendigo and the hunter's fam- 
ily lived for some time, and it surprised them that the 
monster did not attempt their lives; he never slept 
at night, but always went out and returned by the 
break of day stained with blood and looking very wild 
and famished. When there was no deer to be had 
wherewith to finish his repast, he said nothing. In 
truth he was always still and gloomy, and he seldom 
spoke to any of them; when he did, his discourse was 
chiefly addressed to the boy. 

One evening, after he had thus sojourned with them 
for many weeks, he informed the hunter that the time 
had now arrived for him to take his leave, but that 
before doing so, he would give him a charm that would 
bring good luck to his lodge. He presented to him 
two arrows, and thanking the hunter and his wife for 
their kindness, the Weendigo departed, saying, as he 
left them, that he had all the world to travel over. 

The hunter and his wife were happy when he was 
gone, for they had looked every moment to have been 
devoured by him. Then they tried the arrows, which 
never failed to bring down whatever they were aimed 
at. 

So they lived on, prosperous and contented, for a 
year. One day when the hunter was absent, his wife, 
going out of the lodge, saw something like a black 
cloud approaching. 

She looked until it came near, when she perceived 
that it was another Weendigo, or Giant Cannibal. 

230 



WEENDIGOES AND THE BONE-DWARF 

Eemembering the good conduct of the other, she had 
no fear of this one, and asked him to look into the 
lodge. 

He did so; but finding after he had glared around 
that there was no food at hand, he grew very wroth, 
and being sorely disappointed, he took the lodge and 
threw it to the winds. lie seemed hardly at first to 
notice the woman in his anger; but presently he cast 
a fierce glance upon her, and seizing her by the waist, 
in spite of her cries and entreaties, he bore her off. 
To the little son, who ran to and fro lamenting, he 
paid no heed. 

When the hunter returned from the forest at night- 
fall, he was amazed. His lodge was gone, and he saw 
his son sitting near the spot where it had stood, shed- 
ding tears. The son pointed in the direction the Ween- 
cligo had taken, and as the father hurried along he 
found the bones of his wife strewn upon the ground. 

The hunter blackened his face and vowed in his heart 
that he would have revenge. He built another lodge, 
and gathering together the bones of his wife, he placed 
them in the hollow part of a dry tree. 

He left his boy to take care of the lodge while he 
was absent. Then he went hunting and roaming about 
from place to place, striving to forget his misfortune, 
and always searching for the wicked Weendigo. 

One morning he had been gone but a little while, 
when his son shot his arrows out through the top of 
the lodge; running out to look for them, he could find 

231 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

them nowhere. The boy had been trying his luck, and 
he was puzzled that he had shot his shafts entirely 
out of sight. 

His father made him more arrows, and when he was 
again left alone, he shot one of them out ; but although 
he looked as sharply as he could toward the spot where 
it fell, and ran thither at once, he could not find it. 
He shot another, which was lost in the same way. 
Returning to the lodge to replenish his quiver, he hap- 
pened to espy one of the lucky arrows which the first 
Weendigo had given to his father, hanging upon the 
side of the lodge. He reached up, and having se- 
cured it, he shot it out at the opening. Immediately 
running out to find where it fell, he was surprised to 
see a beautiful boy just in the act of taking it up and 
hurrying away with it to a large tree. There he dis- 
appeared. 

The hunter's son followed, and having come to the 
tree, beheld the face of the boy looking out through 
an opening in the hollow part. 

"Ha! ha!" he said, "my friend, come out and play 
with me." And he urged the boy till he consented. 
They played and shot their arrows by turns. 

Suddenly the young boy said, "Your father is com- 
ing. We must stop. Promise me that you will not 
tell him." 

The hunter's son promised, and the other disap- 
peared in the tree. 

When the hunter returned from the chase, his son 

232 



WEENDIGOES AND THE BONE-DWARF 

sat demurely by the fire. In the course of the eve- 
ning he asked his father to make him a new bow ; and 
when he was questioned as to the use he could find 
for two bows, he answered that one might break or 
get lost. 

The father, pleased at his son's diligence in the prac- 
tise of the bow, made him the new weapon; and the 
next day, as soon as his father had gone away, the 
boy ran to the hollow tree and invited his little friend 
to come out and play, at the same time presenting to 
him the new bow. They went and played in the lodge 
together, and in their sport they raised the ashes all 
over it. - 

Suddenly again the youngest said, "Your father is 
coming, I must leave." 

He again exacted a promise of secrecy and went 
back to his tree. The eldest took his seat near the 
fire. 

When the hunter came in he was surprised to see 
the ashes scattered about. "Why, my son," he said, 
"you must have played very hard to-day to raise such 
a dust all alone. " 

"Yes," the boy answered, "I was very lonesome, 
and I ran round and round — that is the cause of it." 

The next day the hunter made ready for the chase 
as usual. The boy said : 

"Father, try and hunt all day, and see what you can 
kill." 

He had no sooner set out than the boy called his 

233 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

friend, and they played and chased each other round 
the lodge. They had great delight in each other's 
company and made merry by the hour. The hunter 
was again returning, and came to a rising ground 
which caught the winds as they passed, when he heard 
his son laughing and making a noise; but the sounds 
as they reached him on the hill-top, seemed as if they 
arose from two persons playing. 

At the same time the younger boy stopped, and 
after saying, "Your father is coming, " stole away un- 
der cover of the high grass to his hollow tree, which 
was not far off. 

The hunter, on entering, found his son sitting by 
the fire, very quiet and unconcerned, although he saw 
that all the articles of the lodge were lying thrown 
about in all directions. 

"Why, my son," he said, "you must play very hard 
every day; and what is it that you do, all alone, to 
throw the lodge in such confusion V 9 

The boy again had his excuse. "Father," he an- 
swered, "I play in this manner : I chase and drag my 
blanket around the lodge, and that is the reason you 
see the ashes spread about." 

The hunter was not satisfied until his son had shown 
him how he played with the blanket, which he did so 
adroitly as to set his father laughing and at last drive 
him out of the lodge with the great clouds of ashes 
that he raised. 

The next morning the boy renewed his request that 

234 



WEENDIGOES AND THE BONE-DWARF 

his father should be absent all day, and see if he conld 
not kill two deer. The hunter thought this a strange 
desire on the part of his son, but as he had always 
humored the boy, he went into the forest as usual, bent 
on accomplishing his wish, if he could. 

As soon as he was out of sight, his son hastened to 
his young companion at the tree, and they continued 
their sports. 

The father on nearing his home in the evening again 
heard the sounds of play and laughter; and as the 
wind brought them straight to his ear, he was now 
certain that there were two voices. 

The* boy from the tree had no more than time to 
escape, when the hunter entered and found his son 
sitting as usual near the fire. When he cast his eyes 
around, he saw that the lodge was in greater confu- 
sion than before. 

"My son," he said, "you must be very foolish to 
play so when alone. But, tell me, my son; I heard 
two voices, I am sure," and he looked closely on the 
prints of the footsteps in the ashes. "True," he con- 
tinued, "here is the print of a foot which is smaller 
than yours," and he was now satisfied that his suspi- 
cions were well founded, and that some very young 
person had been the companion of his son during his 
absence. 

The boy could not now refuse to tell his father what 
had happened. 

"Father," he said, "I found a boy in the hollow of 

235 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

that tree near the lodge, where you placed my moth- 
er's bones." 

Strange thoughts came over the mind of the hunter ; 
did his wife live again in this beautiful child? 

Fearful of disturbing the dead, he did not dare to 
visit the place where he had deposited her remains. 

He, however, engaged his son to entice the boy to 
a dead tree by the edge of a wood, where they could 
kill many flying-squirrels by setting it on fire. He 
said that he would conceal himself near-by and take 
the boy. 

The next day the hunter accordingly went into the 
woods, and his son, calling the boy from the tree, 
urged him to go with him to kill the squirrels. The 
boy objected that the father was near, but he was at 
length prevailed on to go, and after they had fired 
the tree, and while they were busy killing or taking 
the squirrels, the hunter suddenly made his appear- 
ance and clasped the strange boy in his arms. 

"Kago, kago, don't, don't," cried the child. "You 
will tear my clothes ! ' ' For he was clad in a fine ap- 
parel, which shone as if it had been made of a beau- 
tiful transparent skin. The father reassured him by 
every means in his power. 

By constant kindness and gentle words the boy was 
reconciled to remain with them; but chiefly by the 
presence of his young friend, the hunter's son, to 
whom he was fondly attached. The children were 
never parted from each other; and when the hunter 

236 



WEENDIGOES AND THE BONE-DWARF 

looked upon the strange boy, lie seemed to see living 
in him the better spirit of his lost wife. He was 
thankful to the Great Spirit for this act of goodness, 
and in his heart he felt assured that in time the boy 
would show great virtue and in some way avenge him 
on the wicked Weendigo who had destroyed the com- 
panion of his lodge. 

The hunter grew at ease in his spirit and gave all 
of the time he could spare from the chase to the so- 
ciety of the two children; but what affected him most, 
both of his sons, although they were well-formed and 
beautiful, grew no more in stature but remained chil- 
dren still. Every day they resembled each other more 
and more, and they never ceased to sport and divert 
themselves in the innocent ways of childhood. 

One day the hunter had gone abroad with his bow 
and arrows, leaving behind in the lodge, at the request 
of the strange boy, one of the two shafts which the 
friendly Weendigo had given to him. 

When he returned, what were his surprise and joy 
to see stretched dead by his lodge-door the black giant 
who had slain his wife. He had been stricken down 
by the magic shaft in the hands of the little stranger 
from the tree; and ever after the boy, or the Bone- 
Dwarf as he was called, was the guardian and good 
genius of the lodge. No evil spirit, giant, or Ween- 
digo, ever again dared approach it to mar their peace. 



237 



XX 
THE FIRE-PLUME 

WASSAMO was living with his parents on the 
shore of a large bay far out in the north-east. 

One day, when the season had commenced for fish 
to be plenty, the mother of Wassamo said to him: 

"My son, I wish you would go to yonder point and 
see if you cannot procure me some fish ; and ask your 
cousin to accompany you." 

Wassamo did so. He set out with his cousin, and 
in the course of the afternoon they arrived at the fish- 
ing-ground. 

The cousin, being the elder, attended to the nets. 
When these were set in the lake, the youths encamped 
near-by, using the bark of the birch for a lodge to 
shelter them through the night. 

They lit a fire, and while they sat conversing with 
each other, the moon arose. Not a breath of wind 
disturbed the smooth surface of the lake. Not a cloud 
was seen. Wassamo looked out on the water toward 
their nets, and he saw that the little black spots, which 
were no other than the floats, had disappeared. 

"Netawis," he said, "let us visit our nets; perhaps 
we are fortunate." 

When they drew up the nets they were rejoiced to 

238 



THE FIRE-PLUME 

see the meshes shining white, all over, with the glit- 
tering prey. They landed in fine spirits, and put away 
their canoe in safety from the winds. 

"Wassamo," said the cousin, "you cook that we may 
eat" 

Wassamo set about the work at once and soon had 
his great kettle swung upon its branch, while the 
cousin lay at his ease upon the other side of the fire. 

"Cousin," said Wassamo, "tell me stories or sing 
me some love-songs." 

The cousin obeyed, and sang his plaintive songs, 
frequently breaking off in the midst of a mournful 
chant to recite a mirthful story, then in the midst of 
Wassamo 's laughter returning to the plaintive ditty 
— just as it suited his fancy; for Netawis was gay of 
spirit and shifted his humor faster than the fleecy 
clouds that appeared and disappeared in the night-sky 
over their heads. In this changeful pastime the cousin 
ran his length and then fell away into a silvery sleep, 
murmuring parts of his song or story, while the moon 
glided through the branches and gilded his face as 
though she were enamored of his fair looks. 

Wassamo in the meanwhile had lost the sound of 
his cousin's voice in the rich simmer of the kettle; 
and when its. music pleased his ear the most, as an- 
nouncing that the fish were handsomely cooked, he 
lifted the kettle from the fire. He spoke to his cousin, 
but he received no answer. 

He went on with his housekeeping alone and took 

239 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

the wooden ladle and skimmed the kettle neatly, for 
the fish were very plump and fat. But he had a torch 
of twisted bark in one hand to give light, and when he 
came to take out the fish, there was no one to have 
charge of the torch. 

The cousin was so happy in his sleep, with the sil- 
ver moon kissing his cheeks, that Wassamo had not the 
heart to call him up. 

Binding his girdle upon his brow, in this he thrust 
the torch and went forward to prepare the evening 
meal with the light dancing through the green leaves 
at every turn of his head. 

He again spoke to his cousin, but gently, to learn 
whether he was in truth asleep. The cousin mur- 
mured, but made no reply; and Wassamo stepped 
softly about with the dancing fire-plume lighting up 
the gloom of the forest at every turn he made. 

Suddenly he heard a laugh. It was double, or the 
one must be the perfect echo of the other. To Was- 
samo there appeared to be two persons at no great 
distance. 

"Cousin," said Wassamo, "some person is near us. 
I hear a laugh; awake and let us look out!" 

The cousin made no answer. 

Again Wassamo heard the laughter in mirthful 
repetition, like the ripple of the water-brook upon the 
shining pebbles of the stream. Peering out as far as 
the line of the torchlight pierced into the darkness, he 
beheld two beautiful young maidens smiling on him. 

240 



THE FIRE-PLUME 

Their countenances appeared to be perfectly; white, 
like the fresh snow. 

He crouched down and pushed his cousin, saying 
in a low voice, "Awake! awake! here are two young 
women. ' ' 

But he received no answer. His cousin seemed lost 
to all earthly sense and sound; for he lay unmoved, 
smiling, in the calm light of the moon. Wassamo 
started up alone and glided toward the strange maid- 
ens. 

As he approached them he was more and more en- 
raptured with their beauty; but just as he was about 
to speak to them, he suddenly fell to the earth, and 
they all three vanished together. The moon shone 
where they had just stood, but saw them not. Only 
a gentle sound of music and soft voices accompanied 
their vanishing, and this wakened the cousin. 

As Netawis opened his eyes in a dreamy way, he 
saw the kettle near him. Some of the fish, he ob- 
served, were in the bowl. The fire flickered and made 
light and shadow; but nowhere was "Wassamo to be 
seen. He waited, and waited again, in the expecta- 
tion that Wassamo would appear. 

" Perhaps, " thought the cousin, "he is gone out 
again to visit the nets." 

He looked oif that way, but the canoe still lay close 
by the rock at the shore. He searched and found foot- 
steps in the ashes, and out upon the green ground a 
little distance, and then they were utterly lost. 

241 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

He was now greatly troubled in spirit, and he called 
aloud, "Wassamo! cousin! cousin !" but there was no 
answer to his call. He called again in his sorrow, 
louder and louder, "Wassaino! Wassarno! cousin! 
cousin ! whither are you gone ? ' ' But no answer came 
to his voice of wailing. He started for the edge of the 
woods, crying as he ran, "My cousin!" and "Oh, my 
cousin ! ' ' 

Hither and thither through the forest he sped with 
all his fleetness of foot and quickness of spirit; and 
when at last he found that no voice would answer him, 
he burst into tears and sobbed aloud. 

He returned to the fire and sat down. He mused 
upon the absence of Wassamo with a sorely troubled 
heart. "He may have been playing me a trick," he 
thought ; but it was full time that the trick should be 
at an end, and "Wassamo returned not. The cousin 
cherished other hopes, but they all died away in the 
morning light, when he found himself alone by the 
hunting-fire. 

"How shall I answer to his friends for Wassamo ?" 
thought the cousin. "Although his parents are my 
kindred and are well assured that their son is my 
bosom-friend, will they receive that belief in the place 
of him who is lost? No, no ; they will say that I have 
slain him, and they will require blood for blood. Oh ! 
my cousin, whither are you gone?" 

He would have rested to restore his mind to its 
peace, but he could not sleep; and without further 



THE FIRE-PLUME 

regard to net or canoe, he set off for the village, run- 
ning all the way. 

As they saw him approaching at such speed and 
alone, they said, "Some accident has happened." 

When he had come into the village, he told them 
how Wassamo had disappeared. He stated all the 
circumstances. He kept nothing to himself. He de- 
clared all that he knew. 

Some said, ' ' He has killed him in the dark. ' ' Others 
said, "It is impossible; they were like brothers; they 
would have fallen for each other. It cannot be.' 7 

At the cousin's request, many of the men visited 
the fish-fire. There were no marks of blood. No 
hasty steps were there to show that any conflict or 
struggle had occurred. Every leaf on every tree was 
in its place; and they saw, as the cousin had seen, 
that the foot-prints of Wassamo stopped in the wood, 
as if he had gone no farther upon the earth but had 
ascended into the air. 

They returned to the village, and no man was the 
wiser as to the strange and sudden vanishing of Was- 
samo. None ever looked to see him more; only the 
parents, who still hoped and awaited their son's re- 
turn. 

The spring, with all its blossoms and its delicate 
newness of life, came among them; the Indians as- 
sembled from all the country round to celebrate their 
spring feast. 

Among them came the sad cousin of Wassamo. He 

243 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

was pale and thin as the shadow of the shaft that flies. 
The pain of his mind had changed his features, and 
wherever he turned his eyes, they were dazzled with 
the sight of the red blood of his friend. 

The parents of Wassamo, far gone in despair and 
weary with watching for his return, now demanded 
the life of Netawis. The village was stirred to its 
very heart by their loud lamentings ; and after a strug- 
gle of pity, they decided to give the young man's life 
to the parents. They said that they had waited long 
enough. A day was appointed on which the cousin 
was to yield his life for his friend's. 

He was a brave youth, and they bound him only by 
his word to be ready at the appointed hour. He said 
that he was not afraid to die; for he was innocent of 
the great wrong they laid to his charge. 

A day or two before the time set to take his life, 
he wandered sadly along the shore of the lake. He 
looked at the glassy water, and more than once the 
thought to end his griefs by casting himself in its 
depths came upon him with such sudden force that 
only by severe self-control was he able to turn his steps 
in another direction. He reflected — 

"They will say that I was guilty if I take my own 
life. No. I will give them my blood for that of my 
cousin. ' ' 

He walked on with slow steps, but he found no com- 
fort, turn where he would ; the sweet songs of the for- 
est jarred upon his ear; the beauty of the blue sky 



THE FIRE-PLUME 

pained his sight; and the soft green earth, as he trod 
upon it, seemed harsh to his foot and sent a pang 
through every nerve. 

"Oh, where is my cousin!" he kept saying to him- 
self. 

Meanwhile, when Wassamo fell senseless before the 
two young women in the wood, he lost all knowledge 
of himself until he awakened in a distant scene. He 
heard persons conversing. One spoke in a tone of 
command, saying: 

"Foolish ones, is this the way that you rove about 
at nights without our knowledge? Put that person 
you have brought on that couch of yours, and do not 
let him lie upon the ground." 

Wassamo felt himself moved, he knew not how, and 
placed upon a couch. Some time after, the spell 
seemed to be a little lightened, and on opening his 
eyes, he was surprised to find that he was lying in a 
spacious and shining lodge extending as far as the 
eye could reach. One spoke to him and said: 

1 ' Stranger, awake, and take something wherewith to 
refresh yourself." 

He obeyed the command and sat up. On either 
side of the lodge he beheld rows of people seated in 
orderly array. At a distance he could see two stately 
persons, who looked rather more in years than the 
others, and who appeared to exact obedience from all 
around them. One of them, whom he heard addressed 
as the Old Spirit-man, spoke to Wassamo. 

245 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

"My son," said he, "know it was those foolish maid- 
ens who brought you hither. They saw you at the fish- 
ing-ground. When you attempted to approach them 
you fell senseless, and at the same moment they trans- 
ported you to this place. You are now under the earth. 
But be at ease. We will make your stay with us pleas- 
ant. I am the Guardian Spirit of the Sand Moun- 
tains. They are my charge. I pile them up and blow 
them about and do whatever I will with them. It 
keeps me very busy, but I am hale for my age, and I 
love to be employed. I have often wished to get one 
of your race to marry among us. If you can make 
up your mind to remain, I will give you one of my 
daughters — the one who smiled on you first the night 
you were brought away from your parents and 
friends. ' ' 

Wassamo dropped his head and made no answer. 
The thought that he should behold his kindred no 
more made him sad. 

He was silent, and the Old Spirit continued : "Your 
wants will all be supplied; but you must be careful 
not to stray far from the lodge. I am afraid of that 
Spirit who rules all islands lying in the lakes. He is 
my bitter enemy, for I have refused him my daughter 
in marriage ; and when he learns that you are a mem- 
ber of my family, he will seek to harm you. There is 
my daughter," added the Old Spirit, pointing toward 
her. "Take her. She shall be your wife." 

Forthwith Wassamo and the Old Spirit's daughter 

24G 



THE FIRE-PLUME 

sat near each other in the lodge, and they were man 
and wife. 

One evening the Old Spirit came in after a busy 
day's work out among the sand-hills, in the course of 
which he had blown them all out of shape with great 
gusts of wind, strewn them about in a thousand direc- 
tions and brought them back and piled them up in all 
sorts of misshapen heaps. 

At the close of this busy day, when the Old Spirit 
came in very much out of breath, he said to Was- 
samo: 

''Son-in-law, I am in want of tobacco. None grows 
about this dry place of mine. You shall return to 
your people and procure me a supply. It is seldom 
that the few who pass these sand-hills offer me a piece 
of tobacco — it is a rare plant in these parts — but when 
they do, it immediately comes to me. Just so," he 
added, putting his hand out of the side of the lodge 
and drawing in several pieces of tobacco. Some one 
passing at that moment had offered it as a fee to the 
Old Spirit, to keep the sand-hills from blowing about 
till they had got by. 

Other gifts besides tobacco came in the same way 
to the side of the lodge — sometimes a whole bear, then 
a wampum-robe, then a string of birds — and the Sand- 
Spirits altogether led an easy life ; for they were not at 
the trouble to hunt or clothe themselves; and when- 
ever the housekeeping began to fall short, nothing 
would happen but a wonderful storm of dust, all the 

247 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

sand-hills being straightway put in an uproar, and the 
contributions would at once begin to pour in at the 
side windows of the lodge, till all wants were supplied. 

After Wassamo had been among these curious peo- 
ple several months, the old Sand-Spirit said to him : 

' ' Son-in-law, you must not be surprised at what you 
will see next; for since you have been with us you 
have never known us to go to sleep. It has been sum- 
mer, when the sun never sets here where we live. But 
now, what you call winter is coming on. You will 
soon see us lie down, and we shall not rise again till 
the spring. Take my advice. Do not leave the lodge. 
I have sure knowledge that that knavish Island Spirit 
is on the prowl, and as he has command of a partic- 
ular kind of storm, which comes from the south-west, 
he only waits his opportunity to catch you abroad and 
do you mischief. Try and amuse yourself. That cup- 
board," pointing to a corner of the lodge, "is never 
empty ; for it is there that all the offerings are handed 
in while we are asleep. It is never empty, and — " 
But ere the old Sand-Spirit could utter another word, 
a loud rattling of thunder was heard, and instantly 
not only the Old Spirit but every one of his family 
vanished out of sight. 

When the storm had passed by, they all reappeared 
in the lodge. This sudden vanishing and reappear- 
ance occurred at every tempest. 

"You are surprised," said the Old Spirit, "to see 
us disappear when it thunders. The reason is this: 

248 



THE FIRE-PLUME 

that noise which you fancy is thunder is our enemy 
the Island Spirit hallooing on his way home from the 
hunt. We get out of sight that we may escape the 
necessity of asking him to come in and share our eve- 
ning meal. We are not afraid of him, not in the 
least." 

Just then it chanced to thunder again, and Was- 
samo observed that his father-in-law made extraor- 
dinary despatch to conceal himself, although no stran- 
ger was in view, at all resembling in any way the 
Island Spirit. 

Shortly after this the season of sleep began, and one 
by one they laid themselves down to the long slumber. 

The Old Spirit was the last to drop away; and be- 
fore he yielded, he went forth and had his last sport 
with the sand-hills. He so tossed and vexed the poor 
hills, scattered them to and fro, and whirled them up 
in the air and far over the land, that it was days and 
days before they got back to anything like their nat- 
ural shape. 

While his relations were enjoying this long sleep, 
Wassamo amused himself as best he could. The cup- 
board never failed him once; for visit it when he 
would, he always found a fresh supply of game and 
every other dainty which his heart desired. 

But his chief pastime was to listen to the voices 
of the travelers who passed by the window at the side 
of the lodge, where they made their requests for com- 
fortable weather and an easy journey. 

249 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

These were often mingled with loud complainings, 
such as "Ho! how the sand jumps about!" "Take 
away that hill!" "I am lost!" "Old Sand-Spirit, 
where are you ? Help this way ! ' ' which indicated that 
such as were journeying through the hills had their 
own troubles to encounter. 

As the spring-light of the first day of spring shone 
into the lodge, the whole family arose and went about 
the affairs of the day as though they had been slum- 
bering only for a single night. The rest seemed to 
have done the Old Spirit much good, for he was very 
cheerful. Putting his head forth from the window for 
a puff at a sand-hill, which was his prime luxury in 
a morning, he said to Wassamo : 

"Son-in-law, you have been very patient with our 
long absence from your company, and you shall be re- 
warded. In a few days you may start with your wife 
to visit your relations. You can be absent one year, 
but at the end of that time, you must return. When 
you get to your home village, you must first go in 
alone. Leave your wife at a short distance from the 
lodge, and when you are welcome, then send for her. 
When there, do not be surprised that she disappears 
whenever you hear it thunder. ' ' He added, with a sly 
look, "That old Island Spirit has a brother down in 
that part of the country. You will prosper in all 
things, for my daughter is very diligent. All the time 
that you pass in sleep, she will be at work. The dis- 
tance is short to your village. A path leads directly 

250 



THE FIRE-PLUME 

to it, and when you get there, do not forget my wants 
as I stated to you before." 

Wassamo promised obedience to these directions, 
and at the appointed time set out in company with 
his wife. They traveled on a pleasant course, his wife 
leading the way, until they reached a rising ground. 

At the highest point of this ground, she said, "We 
shall soon get to your country." 

It suddenly became broad day, as they came upon 
a high bank. Then they passed, unwet, for a short 
distance under the lake and presently emerged from 
the water at the sand-banks, just off the shore where 
Wassamo had set his nets on the night when he had 
been borne away by the two strange females. 

Wassamo now left his wife sheltered in a neighbor- 
ing wood, while he advanced toward the village alone. 
When he turned the first point of land by the lake he 
beheld his cousin as he walked the shore, musing sadly, 
and from time to time breaking forth in mournful cries. 

With the speed of lightning the cousin rushed for- 
ward. "Wassamo! Wassamo!" he cried, "is it in- 
deed you? Whence have you come, oh, my cousin?" 

They fell upon each other's necks and wept aloud. 
And then, without further delay or question, the 
cousin ran off with breathless despatch to the village. 
He seemed like a shadow upon the open ground, he 
sped so fast. 

He entered the lodge where sat the mother of Was- 
samo in mourning for her son. "Hear me," said the 

251 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

cousin. "I have seen him whom you accuse me of 
having killed. He will be here even while we speak." 

He had scarcely uttered these words when the whole 
village was astir in an instant. All ran out and 
strained their eyes to catch the first view of him whom 
they had thought dead. And when Wassamo came 
forward, they at first fell from him as though he had 
been in truth one returned from the Spiritland. He 
entered the lodge of his parents. They saw that it 
was Wassamo, living, breathing and as they had ever 
known him. And joy lit up the lodge-circle as though 
a new fire had been kindled in the eyes of his friends 
and kinsfolk. 

He related all that had happened to him from the 
moment of his leaving the temporary night-lodge with 
the flame on his head. He told them of the strange 
land in which he had sojourned during his absence. 
He added to his mother, apart from the company, that 
he was married, and that he had left his wife at a 
short distance from the village. 

She went out immediately in search of her; they 
soon found her in the wood, and all the women in the 
village conducted her in honor to the lodge of her 
new relations. The Indian people were astonished at 
her beauty, at the whiteness of her skin, and still more, 
that she was able to talk with them in their own lan- 
guage. 

The village was happy, and the feast went on as 
long as the supply held out. All were delighted to 



THE FIRE-PLUME 

make the acquaintance of the old Sand-Spirit's daugh- 
ter ; and as they had heard that he was a magician and 
guardian of great power, the tobacco which he had 
sent for by his son-in-law came in great abundance 
with every visitor. 

The summer and fall which Wassamo thus passed 
with his parents and the people of his tribe were pros- 
perous with all the country. 

The cousin of Wassamo recovered heart and sang 
once more his sad or mirthful chants, just as the hu- 
mor was upon him; but he kept close by Wassamo 
and watched him in all his movements. He made it 
a point to ask many questions of the country he came 
from; some of which his cousin replied to, but others 
he left entirely unanswered. 

At every thunderstorm, as the old Sand-Spirit had 
foreboded, the wife of Wassamo disappeared, much to 
the astonishment of her Indian company. And to 
their greater wonder she was never idle, night or day. 

When the winter came on, Wassamo prepared for 
her a comfortable lodge to which she withdrew for 
her long sleep ; and he gave notice to his friends that 
they must not disturb her, as she would not be with 
them again until the spring returned. 

Before lying down, she said to her husband, "No 
one but yourself must pass on this side of the lodge. ' ' 

The winter passed away with snows outside, and 
sports and stories in the lodge; and when the sap of 
the maple began to flow, the wife of Wassamo wakened 

253 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

and immediately set about work as before. She 
helped at the maple-trees with the others; and as if 
luck were in her presence, the sugar-harvest was 
greater than had been ever known in all that region. 

The gifts of tobacco after this came in even more 
freely than they had at first ; and as each giver brought 
his bundle to the lodge of Wassamo, he asked for the 
usual length of life, for success as a hunter, and for 
a plentiful supply of food. They particularly desired 
that the sand-hills might be kept quiet, so that their 
lands might be moist and their eyes clear of dust to 
sight the game. 

Wassamo replied that he would mention each of 
their requests to his father-in-law. 

The tobacco was stored in sacks, and on the out- 
side of the skins, that there might be no mistake as 
to their wants, each one who had given tobacco had 
painted and marked in distinct characters the totem 
or family emblem of his family and tribe. These the 
old Sand-Spirit could read at his leisure and do what 
he thought best for each of his various petitioners. 

When the time for his return arrived, Wassamo 
warned his people that they should not follow him 
or attempt to take note how he disappeared. He then 
took the moose-skin sacks filled with tobacco and bade 
farewell to all but Netawis. The latter insisted on the 
privilege of attending Wassamo and his wife for a 
distance, and when they reached the sand-banks he 
expressed the strongest wish to proceed with them on 

254 



THE FIRE-PLUME 

their journey. Wassamo told him that it could not 
be ; that only spirits could exert the necessary power, 
and that there were no such spirits at hand. 

They then took an affectionate leave of each other, 
Wassamo enjoining upon his cousin, at risk of his 
life, not to look back when he had once started to re- 
turn. 

The cousin, sore at heart but constrained to obey, 
parted from them; and as he walked sadly away, he 
heard a gliding noise as of the sound of waters that 
were cleaved. 

He returned home and told his friends that Was- 
samo and his wife had disappeared, but that he knew 
not how. No one doubted his word in anything now. 

Wassamo with his wife soon reached their home at 
the hills. The old Sand-Spirit was in excellent health 
and delighted to see them. He hailed their return 
with open arms ; and he opened his arms so very wide, 
that when he closed them he not only embraced Was- 
samo and his wife, but all of the tobacco-sacks which 
they had brought with them. 

The requests of the Indian people were made known 
to him; he replied that he would attend to all, but 
that he must first invite his friends to smoke with him. 
Accordingly he at once despatched his pipe-bearer and 
confidential aid to summon various Spirits of his ac- 
quaintance, and set the time for them to come. 

Meanwhile he had a word of advice for his son-in- 
law, Wassamo. "My son," said he, "some of these 

255 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

Manitos that I have asked to come here are of a very 
wicked temper, and I warn you especially of that 
Island Spirit who wished to marry my daughter. He 
is a very bad-hearted Monedo, and would like to do 
you harm. Some of the company, however, you will 
find to be very friendly. A caution for you. When 
they come in, do you sit close by your wife; if you 
do not, you will be lost. She only can save you; for 
those who are expected to come are so powerful that 
they will otherwise draw you from your seat and toss 
you out of the lodge as though you were a feather. 
You have only to observe my words and all will be 
well." 

Wassamo took heed to what the Old Spirit said and 
answered that he would obey. 

About midday the company began to assemble ; and 
such a company "Wassamo had never looked on before. 
There were Spirits from all parts of the country ; such 
strange-looking persons, and in dresses so wild and 
outlandish! One entered who smiled on him. This, 
Wassamo was informed, was a Spirit who had charge 
of the affairs of a tribe in the North, and he was as 
pleasant and cheery a Spirit as one would wish to 
see. Soon after, Wassamo heard a great rumbling 
and roaring, as of waters tumbling over rocks; and 
presently, with a vast bluster, and fairly shaking the 
lodge with his deep-throated hail of welcome to the 
old Sand-Spirit, in rolled another, who was the Guard- 

256 



THE FIRE-PLUME 

ian Spirit and special director of a great cataract or 
water-fall not far off. 

Then came with crashing steps the owner of sev- 
eral whirlwinds, which were in the habit of raging 
about in the neighboring country. And following 
this one glided in a sweet-spoken, gentle-faced little 
Spirit, who was understood to represent a summer 
gale that was accustomed to blow in at the lodge- 
doors, toward evening, and to be particularly well dis- 
posed toward young lovers. 

The last to appear was a great rocky-headed fel- 
low; and he was twice as stony in his manners. He 
swaggered and strided in, and raised such a commo- 
tion with his great green blanket when he shook it, 
that Wassamo was nearly taken off his feet; and it 
was only by main force that he was able to cling by 
his wife. This, which was the last to enter, was that 
wicked Island Spirit, who looked grimly enough at 
Wassamo 's wife as he passed in. 

Soon after, the old Sand-Spirit, who was a great 
speech-maker, arose and addressed the assembly. 

"Brothers," he said, "I have invited you to par- 
take with me of the offerings made by the mortals 
on earth, which have been brought by our relation,' ' 
pointing to "Wassamo. "Brothers, you see their 
wishes and desires plainly set forth here," laying his 
hand upon the figured moose-skins. "The offering 
is worthy of our consideration. Brothers, I see noth- 

257 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

ing on my part to hinder our granting their requests ; 
they do not appear to be unreasonable. Brothers, 
the offer is gratifying. It is tobacco — an article which 
we have lacked until we scarcely knew how to use our 
pipes. Shall we grant their requests? One thing 
more I would say. Brothers, it is this : There is my 
son-in-law; he is mortal. I wish to detain him with 
me, and it is with us jointly to make him one of us." 

"Hoke! hoke!" ran though the whole company of 
Spirits, and "Hoke! hoke!" they cried again. And 
it was understood that the petitioners were to have all 
they asked, and that Wassamo was thenceforward 
fairly accepted as a member of the great family of 
Spirits. 

As a wedding-gift the Old Spirit promised his son- 
in-law one request, which should be promptly granted. 

"Let there be no sand-squalls among my father's 
people for three months to come," said Wassamo. 

"So shall it be," answered the old Sand-Spirit. 

The tobacco was now divided in equal shares among 
the company. They filled their pipes — and huge pipes 
they were! And such clouds they blew, that they 
rushed forth out of the lodge and brought on night 
in all the country round about, several hours before 
its time. 

After a time passed in silence, the Spirits rose up, 
and bearing off their tobacco-sacks, went smoking 
through the country, losing themselves in their own 
fog, till a late hour in the morning, when all of their 



THE FIRE-PLUME 

pipes being burned out, each departed on his own 
business. 

L The very next day the old Sand-Spirit, who was 
very much pleased with the turn affairs had taken at 
his entertainment, addressed Wassamo: 

"Son-in-law, I have made up my mind to allow you 
another holiday as an acknowledgment of the hand- 
some manner in which you acquitted yourself of your 
embassy. You may visit your parents and relatives 
once more, to tell them that their wishes are granted 
and to take your leave of them forever. You can 
never, after, visit them again. " 

Wassamo at once set out, reached his people, and 
was heartily welcomed. 

They asked for his wife, and Wassamo informed 
them that she had tarried at home to look after a 
son, a fine little Sand-Spirit, who had been born to 
them since his return. 

Having delivered all of his messages and passed a 
happy time, Wassamo said, "I must now bid you all 
farewell forever." 

His parents and friends raised their voices in loud 
lamentation; they clung to him, and as a special fa- 
vor, which he could now grant, being himself a spirit, 
he allowed them to accompany him to the sand-banks. 

They all seated themselves to watch his last fare- 
well. The day was mild, the sky clear, not a cloud 
appearing to dim the heavens, or a breath of wind 
to ruffle the tranquil waters. A perfect silence fell 

259 



THE IXDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

upon the company. They gazed with eager eyes 
fastened on Wassarao, as he waded out into the water, 
waving his hands. They saw him descend, more and 
more, into the depths. They beheld the waves close 
over his head, and a loud and piercing wail went up 
which rent the sky. 

They looked again; a red flame, as if the sun had 
glanced on a billow, lighted the spot for an instant; 
but the Feather of Flames, Wassamo of the Fire- 
Plume, had disappeared from home and kindred and 
the familiar paths of his youth, forever. 




200 



XXI 
THE BIRD LOVER 

IN a region of country where the forest and the 
prairie strove which should be the most beautiful — 
the open plain with its free sunshine and winds and 
flowers, or the close wood with its delicious twilight 
walks and green hollows — there lived a wicked manito 
in the disguise of an old Indian. 

Although the country furnished an abundance of 
game and whatever else a good heart could wish for, 
it was the study of this wicked genius to destroy such 
people as fell into his hands. He made use of all his 
arts to decoy men into his power for the purpose of 
killing them. The country had been once thickly peo- 
pled, but this Mudjee Monedo had so thinned it by his 
cruel practices that he now lived almost solitary in the 
wilderness. 

The secret of his success lay in his great speed. He 
had the power to assume the shape of any four-footed 
creature, and it was his custom to challenge to a race 
all those he sought to destroy. He had a beaten path 
on which he ran, leading around a large lake, and he 
always ran around this circle so that the starting and 
the winning-post was the same. Whoever failed, as 
201 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

every one had, yielded up his life at this post; and 
although he ran every day, no man was ever known to 
beat this evil genius; for whenever he was pressed 
hard, he changed himself into a fox, wolf, deer, or 
other swift-footed animal, and was thus able to leave 
his competitor behind. 

The whole country was in dread of this same Mud- 
jee Monedo, and yet the young men were constantly 
running with him; for if they refused, he called them 
cowards, which was a reproach they could not bear. 
They would rather die than be called cowards. 

To keep up his sport, the manito made light of 
these deadly foot-matches. Instead of assuming a 
braggart air and going about in a boastful way with 
the blood of such as he had overcome upon his hands, 
he adopted very pleasing manners and visited the 
lodges around the country as any other sweet-tem- 
pered and harmless old Indian might. 

His secret object in these friendly visits was to 
learn whether the young boys were getting old enough 
to run with him ; he kept a very sharp eye upon their 
growth, and the day he thought them ready, he did not 
fail to challenge them to a trial on his racing-ground. 

There was not a family in all that beautiful region 
which had not in this way been visited and thinned 
out; and the manito had quite naturally come to bo 
held in abhorrence by all the Indian mothers in the 
country. 

It happened that there lived near him a poor widow 

2G2 



THE BIRD LOVER 

woman whose husband and seven sons he had made 
way with. She was now living with an only daughter 
and a son of ten or twelve years old. 

This widow was very poor and feeble, and she suf- 
fered so much from lack of food and other comforts of 
the lodge, that she would have been glad to die but for 
her daughter and her little son. The Mudjee Monedo 
had already visited her lodge to observe whether the 
boy was sufficiently grown to be challenged to the race ; 
and so crafty in his approaches and so soft in his 
manners was the monedo, that the mother feared he 
would yet decoy the son in spite of all her struggles 
and make way with him as he had done with her hus- 
band and the seven elder sons. 

And yet she strove with all her might to strengthen 
her son in every good course. She taught him, as best 
she could, what was becoming for the wise hunter and 
the brave warrior. She remembered and set before 
him all that she could recall of the skill and the craft 
of his father and his brothers who were lost. 

The widow woman also instructed her daughter in 
whatever would make her useful as a wife ; and in the 
leisure-time of the lodge, she gave her lessons in the 
art of working with the quills of porcupine, and be- 
stowed on her such other accomplishments as should 
make her an ornament and a blessing to her husband's 
household. The daughter, Minda by name, disdained 
no labor of the lodge, was kind and obedient to her 
mother, and never failed in her duty. Their lodge 

263 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

stood high up on the banks of a lake, which gave them 
a wide prospect of country embellished with groves 
and open fields, which waved with the blue light of 
their long grass, and made, at all hours of sun and 
moon, a cheerful scene to look upon. 

Across this beautiful prairie, Minda had one morn- 
ing made her way to gather dry limbs for their fire. 
And while enjoying the sweetness of the air and the 
green beauty of the woods, she strolled far away. 

She had come to a bank painted with flowers of 
every hue, and was reclining on its fragrant couch, 
when a bird, of red and deep-blue plumage softly 
blended, alighted on a branch near-by and began to 
pour forth its carol. It was a bird of strange char- 
acter, such as she had never before seen. Its first 
note was so delicious to the ear of Minda, it so pierced 
to her young heart, that she listened as she had never 
before to any mortal or heavenly sound. It seemed 
like the human voice, forbidden to speak and uttering 
its language through this wild wood-chant with a 
mournful melody, as if it bewailed the lack of the 
power or the right to make itself more plainly in- 
telligible. 

The voice of the bird rose and fell and circled round 
and round; but whithersoever floated or spread out 
its notes, they seemed ever to have their center where 
Minda sat; and she looked with sad eyes into the sad 
eyes of the mournful bird, that sat in his red and deep- 
blue plumage just opposite to the flowery bank. 

264 



THE BIRD LOVER 

The poor bird strove more and more with his voice 
and seemed ever more and more anxiously to address 
his notes of lament to Minda's ear, till at last she 
could not refrain from speaking to him. 

"What aileth thee, sad bird?" she asked. 

As if he had but waited to be spoken to, the bird 
left his branch, and alighting upon the bank, smiled on 
Minda. Shaking his shining plumage, he answered: 

"I am bound in this condition until a maiden shall 
accept me in marriage. I have wandered through 
these forests and sung to many and many of the In- 
dian girls, but none ever heeded my voice till you. 
Will you be mine?" he added, and poured forth a 
flood of melody which sparkled and spread itself with 
its sweet murmurs over all the scene, fairly entrancing 
the young Minda, who sat silent, as if she feared to 
break the charm by speech. 

The bird, approaching nearer, asked her, if she 
loved him, to get her mother's consent to their mar- 
riage. "I shall be free then," said the bird, "and 
you shall know me as I am." 

Minda lingered and listened to the sweet voice of 
the bird, either in its own forest notes, or else filling 
each pause with gentle human discourse. For it ques- 
tioned her as to her home, her family, and the little 
incidents of her daily life. 

She returned to the lodge later than usual, but she 
was too timid to speak to her mother of that which 
the bird had charged her. She returned again and 

265 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

again to the fragrant haunt in the wood; and every 
day she listened to the songs of her bird admirer with 
more pleasure, and he every day besought her to speak 
to her mother of the marriage. This she could not, 
however, muster heart and courage to do. 

At last the widow began herself to have a suspicion 
that her daughter's heart was in the wood, from her 
long delays in returning and the little success she had 
in gathering the fire-branches for which she went in 
search. 

Then, in answer to her mother's questions, Minda 
revealed the truth and made known her lover's re- 
quest; and the mother gave her consent, considering 
the lonely and destitute condition of her little house- 
hold. 

The daughter hastened, with light steps, to carry 
the news to the wood. The bird lover, of course, heard 
it with delight and fluttered through the air in happy 
circles, pouring forth a song of joy which thrilled 
Minda to the heart. 

He said that he would come to the lodge at sun- 
set, and immediately took wing, while Minda hung 
fondly upon his flight, till he was lost far away in the 
blue sky. 

With the twilight the bird lover appeared at the 
door of the lodge. But now his name was Monedowa, 
and he had returned to his true form of a hunter, with 
a red plume on his head and a mantle of blue upon 
his shoulders. 






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: _!^ 



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'what aileth thee, sad bird?' she asked" — Page 26$ 



THE BIRD LOVER 

He addressed the widow as his friend, and she di- 
rected him to sit down beside her daughter, and they 
were regarded as man and wife. 

Early on the following morning he asked for the 
bow and arrows of those who had been slain by the 
wicked manito, then went out a-hunting. As soon as 
he had got out of sight of the lodge, he changed him- 
self into the wood-bird he had been before his mar- 
riage, and took his flight through the air. 

Although game was scarce in the neighborhood of 
the widow's lodge, Monedowa returned at evening, in 
his character of a hunter, with two deer. This was 
his daily practice, and the widow's family never more 
lacked for food. 

It was noticed, however, that Monedowa himself 
ate but little, and that of a peculiar kind of meat 
flavored with berries, which fact, with other circum- 
stances, convinced his wife that he was not as the 
Indian people around him. 

. His mother-in-law told him that in a few days the 
manito would come to pay them a visit, to see how 
the young man, her son, prospered. 

Monedowa answered that he should on that day be 
absent. 

When the time arrived, he flew upon a tall pine- 
tiee overlooking the lodge and took his station there 
as the wicked manito passed in. 

The Mudjee Monedo cast sharp glances at the scaf- 
folds so well laden with meat, and as soon as he had 

267 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

entered, he said, "Why, who is it that is furnishing 
you with meat so plentifully?" 

"No one but my son," she answered. "He is just 
beginning to kill deer." 

"No, no," he retorted; "some one is living with 
you." 

"Kaween, no indeed!" replied the widow. "You 
are only making sport of my hapless condition. Who 
do you think would come and trouble themselves about 
me?" 

"Very well," answered the manito, "I will go; but 
on such a day I will again visit you and see who it is 
that furnishes the meat, and whether it is your son 
or not." 

He had no sooner left the lodge and got out of sight, 
than the son-in-law made his appearance with two 
more deer. On being made acquainted with the con- 
duct of the manito, he said, "Very well, I will be at 
home the next time, to see him." 

Both the mother and the wife urged Monedowa to 
beware of the manito. They made known all of his 
cruel courses, and assured him that no man could es- 
cape from his power. 

"No matter," said Monedowa. "If he invites me 
to the race-ground, I will not be backward. What 
follows may teach him, my mother, to show pity on 
the vanquished and not to trample on the widow and 
those who are without fathers." 

268 



THE BIRD LOVER 

When the day of the visit of the manito arrived, 
Monedowa told his wife to prepare certain pieces of 
meat, which he pointed out to her, together with two 
or three buds of the birch tree, which he requested her 
to put in the pot. He directed also that the manito 
should be hospitably received, as if he had been just 
the kind-hearted old Indian he professed to be. Mone- 
dowa then dressed himself as a warrior, embellishing 
his visage with tints of red to show that he was pre- 
pared for either war or peace. 

As soon as the Mudjee Monedo arrived, he eyed this 
strange warrior whom he had never seen before; but 
he dissembled, as usual, and with a gentle laugh said 
to the widow, "Did I not tell you that some one was 
staying with you ! For I knew your son was too young 
to hunt." 

The widow excused herself by saying that she did 
not think it necessary to tell him, inasmuch as he was 
a manito and must have known before he asked. 

The manito was very pleasant with Monedowa, and 
after much other gentle-spoken discourse, he invited 
him to the racing-ground, saying it was a manly amuse- 
ment, that he would have an excellent chance to meet 
there with other warriors, and that he should himself 
be pleased to run with him. 

Monedowa would have excused himself, saying that 
he knew nothing of running. 

"Why," replied the Mudjee Monedo, trembling in 

269 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

every limb as he spoke, " don't you see how old I 
look, while you are young and full of life? We must 
at least run a little to amuse others." 

"Be it so, then," replied Monedowa. "I will oblige 
you. I will go in the morning." 

Pleased with his crafty success, the manito would 
have now taken his leave, but he was pressed to re- 
main and partake of their hospitality. The meal, con- 
sisting of one dish, was immediately prepared. 

Monedowa partook of it first, to show his guest that 
he need fear nothing. 

"It is a feast," he said, "and as we seldom meet, 
we must eat all that is placed on the dish, as a mark 
of gratitude to the Great Spirit, not only for permit- 
ting me to kill animals, but also for giving me the 
pleasure of seeing you and partaking of it with you." 

They ate and talked of this and that, until they had 
nearly despatched the meal, when the manito took up 
the dish and drank off the broth at a breath. On set- 
ting it down he immediately turned his head and com- 
menced coughing with great violence. The old body 
in which he had disguised himself was well-nigh shaken 
in pieces, for he had, as Monedowa expected, swallowed 
a grain of the birch-bud, and this, relished by Mone- 
dowa because of his bird nature, greatly distressed 
the old manito, who partook of the character of an 
animal, or four-footed thing. 

He was at last put to such confusion of face by 
his constant coughing that he was forced to leave, say- 

270 



THE BIRD LOVER 

ing, or rather hiccoughing, as he left the lodge, that 
he should look for the young man at the racing-ground 
in the morning. 

When the morning came, Monedowa was early astir, 
oiling his limbs and enamelling his breast and arms 
with red and blue, resembling the plumage in which 
he had first appeared to Minda. Upon his brow he 
placed a tuft of feathers of the same shining tints. 

By his invitation his wife, her mother and her 
brother attended Monedowa to the manito 's racing- 
ground. 

The lodge of the manito stood upon a high ground, 
and near it stretched out a long row of other lodges, 
said to be possessed by wicked kindred of Mudjee 
Monedo, who shared in the spoils of his cruelty. 

As soon as the young hunter and his party ap- 
proached, the inmates appeared at their lodge-doors 
and cried out : 

"We are visited." 

At this cry, the Mudjee Monedo came forth and de- 
scended with his companions to the starting-post on 
the plain. From this the course could be seen, wind- 
ing in a long girdle about the lake. As they were now 
all assembled, the old manito began to speak of the 
race, belting himself up and pointing to the post, which 
was an upright pillar of stone. 

"But before we start," said he, "I wish it to be 
understood that when men run with me I make a wager, 
and I expect them to abide by it — life against life." 

271 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

"Very well — be it so," answered Monedowa. "We 
shall see whose head is to be dashed against the 
stone." 

"We shall," rejoined the Mudjee Monedo. "I am 
very old, but I shall try and make a rnn." 

"Very well," again rejoined Monedowa; "I hope 
we shall both stand to onr bargain. ' ' 

' ' Good ! ' ' said the old manito. And at the same time 
he cast a sly glance at the young hunter and rolled his 
eyes toward where stood the pillar of stone. 

"I am ready," said Monedowa. 

The starting shout was given, and they set off at 
high speed, the manito leading and Monedowa press- 
ing closely after. As he closed upon him, the old 
manito began to show his power, and changing him- 
self into a fox he passed the young hunter with ease, 
then went leisurely along. 

Monedowa now, with a glance upward, took the 
shape of the strange bird of red and deep-blue 
plumage, and with one flight, which took him some 
distance ahead of the manito, resumed his mortal 
shape. 

The Mudjee Monedo espied his competitor before 
him. "Whoa! whoa!" he exclaimed; "this is 
strange," and he immediately changed himself into 
a wolf and sped past Monedowa. 

As he galloped by, Monedowa heard a noise from 
his throat and knew that he was still in distress from 
the birch-bud which he had swallowed. 

272 



THE BIRD LOVER 

Monedowa again took wing, and shooting into the 
air, descended suddenly with great swiftness and took 
the path far ahead of the old manito. 

As he passed the wolf he whispered in his ear : 

"My friend, is this the extent of your speed?" 

The manito began to be troubled with bad forebod- 
ings, for on looking ahead he saw the young hunter 
in his own manly form, running along at leisure. The 
Mudjee Monedo, seeing the necessity of more speed, 
now passed Monedowa in the shape of a deer. 

They were now far around the circle of the lake and 
fast closing in upon the starting-post, when Monedowa, 
putting on his red and blue plumage, glided along the 
air and alighted upon the track far in advance. 

To overtake him the old manito assumed the shape 
of the buffalo; and he pushed on with such long gal- 
lops that he was again the foremost on the course. 
The buffalo was the last change he could make, and 
it was in this form that he had most frequently con- 
quered. 

The young hunter, once more a bird, in the act of 
passing the manito, saw his tongue lolling from his 
mouth with fatigue. 

"My friend," said Monedowa, "is this all your 
speed?" 

The manito made no answer. Monedowa had re- 
sumed his character of a hunter and was within a 
run of the winning-post, when the wicked manito had 
nearly overtaken him. 

273 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

"Bakah! bakah! nejee!" he called out to Monedowa. 
1 ' Stop, my friend, I wish to talk to you. ' ' 

Monedowa laughed aloud as he replied : 

"I will speak to you at the starting-post. When 
men ran with me I make a wager, and I expect them 
to abide by it — life against life." 

One more flight as the blue and red bird, and Mone- 
dowa was so near to the goal that he could easily reach 
it in his mortal shape. Shining in beauty, his face 
lighted up like the sky, with tinted arms and bosom 
gleaming in the sun, and the parti-colored plume on 
his brow waving in the wind, Monedowa, cheered by a 
joyful shout from his own people, leaped to the post. 

The manito came on with fear in his face. 

"My friend," he said, "spare my life"; and then 
added in a low voice, as if he would not that the others 
should hear it, "Let me live." And he began to move 
off as if the request had been granted. 

"As you have done to others," replied Monedowa, 
1 ' so shall it be done to you. ' ' 

And seizing the wicked manito, he dashed him 
against the pillar of stone. His kindred, who were 
looking on in horror, raised a cry of fear and fled away 
in a body to some distant land, whence they have never 
returned. 

The widow's family left the scene, and when they 
had all come out into the open fields, they walked on 
together until they had reached the fragrant bank and 

274 



THE BIRD LOVER 

the evergreen wood where the daughter had first en- 
countered her bird lover. 

Monedowa, turning to her, said: 

"My mother, here we must part. Your daughter 
and myself must now leave you. The Good Spirit, 
moved with pity, has allowed me to be your friend. 
I have done that for which I was sent. I am permitted 
to take with me the one whom I love. I have found 
your daughter ever kind, gentle and just. She shall 
be my companion. The blessing of the Good Spirit 
be ever with you. Farewell, my mother — my brother, 
farewell. ' ' 

While the widow woman was still lost in wonder at 
these words, Monedowa and Minda his wife changed 
at the same moment and rose into the air as beautiful 
birds, clothed in shining colors of red and blue. 

They caroled together as they flew, and their songs 
were happy, falling, falling, like clear drops, as the 
birds rose, and rose, and winged their way far upward. 
A delicious peace came into the mind of the poor 
widow woman, and she returned to her lodge deeply 
thankful at heart for all the goodness that had been 
shown to her by the Master of Life. 

From that day forth she never knew want. Her 
young son proved a comfort to her lodge, and the tune- 
ful carol of Monedowa and Minda, as it fell from 
heaven, was a music always sounding peace and joy in 
her ear, go whither she would. 

275 



XXII 
BOKWEWA, THE HUMPBACK 

BOKWEWA and his brother lived in a far-off part 
of the country. By those who knew them, Bok- 
wewa, the elder, although deformed and feeble of per- 
son, was considered a manito who had assumed mortal 
shape; while his younger brother, Kwasynd, manly in 
appearance, active, and strong, partook of the nature 
of the present race of beings. 

They lived off the path, in a wild, lonesome place. 
Far retired from neighbors and undisturbed by cares, 
they passed their time content and happy. The days 
glided by as serenely as the river that flowed by their 
lodge. 

Owing to his lack of strength, Bokwewa never en- 
gaged in the chase but gave his attention entirely to 
the affairs of the lodge. In the long winter evenings 
he passed the time in telling his brother stories of the 
giants, spirits, weendigoes, and fairies of the older 
age, who in those days had the exclusive charge of the 
world. He also at times taught his brother the man- 
ner in which game should be pursued, pointed out to 
him the ways of the different beasts and birds of the 



BOKWEWA, THE HUMPBACK 

chase, and assigned the seasons at which they conld 
be hunted with most success. 

For a while the brother was eager to learn and 
keenly attended to his duties as the provider of the 
lodge; but at length he grew weary of their tranquil 
life and began to have a desire to show himself among 
men. He became restive in their retirement and was 
seized with a longing to visit remote places. 

One day Kwasynd told his brother that he should 
leave him; that he wished to visit the habitations of 
men and to procure a wife. 

Bokwewa objected; but his brother overruled all 
that he said, and in spite of every remonstrance, he 
departed on his travels. 

He traveled for a long time. At length he fell in 
with the footsteps of men. They were moving by en- 
campments, for he saw the poles at several spots where 
they had passed. It was winter; and coming to a 
place where one of their company had died, he found 
upon a scaffold, lying at length in the cold blue air, 
the body of a beautiful young woman. 

"She shall be my wife!" exclaimed Kwasynd. 

He lifted her up, and bearing her in his arms, he 
returned to his brother. 

"Brother," he said, "cannot you restore her to 
life 1 Oh, do me that favor ! ' ' 

He looked upon the beautiful maiden with a long- 
ing gaze; but she lay as cold and silent as when he 
had found her upon the scaffold. 

277 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

"I will try," said Bokwewa. 

These words had been scarcely breathed, when the 
young woman rose up, opened her eyes, and looked 
upon Bokwewa with a smile, as if she had known him 
before. 

To Kwasynd she paid no heed whatever. But pres- 
ently Bokwewa, seeing how she lingered in her gaze 
upon himself, said to her, " Sister, that is your hus- 
band," pointing to Kwasynd. 

She listened to his voice, and crossing the lodge, sat 
by Kwasynd, and they were man and wife. 

For a long time they all lived contentedly together. 
Bokwewa was very kind to his brother and sought to 
render his days happy. He was ever within the lodge, 
seeking to have it in readiness against the return of 
Kwasynd from the hunt. And by following his di- 
rections, which were those of one deeply skilled in the 
chase, Kwasynd always succeeded in returning with a 
good store of meat. 

But the charge of the two brothers was greatly light- 
ened by the presence of the spirit- wife; for without 
labor of the hand she ordered the lodge, and as she 
willed everything took its place and was at once in 
proper array. The wish of her heart seemed to con- 
trol whatever she looked upon, and all obeyed her de- 
sire. 

But to the surprise of her husband, she never par- 
took of food, or shared in any way the longings and 
appetites of a mortal creature. She was never seen 

278 



BOKWEWA, THE HUMPBACK 

arranging her hair, like other women, nor did she work 
upon her garments, and yet they were ever seemly and 
without blemish or disorder. 

Behold her at any hour, she was ever beautiful, and 
she seemed to need no ornament, or nourishment, or 
other aid, to give grace or strength to her looks. 

Kwasynd, when the first wonder of her ways had 
passed, paid little heed to her discourse; he was en- 
grossed with the hunt, and chose to be abroad, pur- 
suing the wild game, or when in the lodge, enjoying 
its savory spoil, rather than the society of his spirit- 
wife. 

But Bokwewa watched closely every word that fell 
from her lips, and often in conferring with her, forgot 
all mortal appetite and care of the body, noting what 
she had to say of spirits and fairies, of stars, and 
streams that never ceased to flow, the delight of the 
happy hunting-grounds, and the groves of the blessed. 

One day Kwasynd had gone out as usual, and Bok- 
wewa was sitting in the lodge on the opposite side to 
his brother's wife, when a tall youth entered. His 
face was like the sun in its brightness, and he stood 
straight as a cedar tree. Taking her by the hand, he 
led her to the door. 

The woman made no resistance, but turned as she 
left the lodge and cast upon Bokwewa a smile of kind 
regard. Then saying, "I must leave you," she was at 
once gone from his view, with her companion. 

He ran to the door, and looking far off in the sky, 

279 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

thought that he could discover, at a great distance, a 
shining track, and the dim figures of two who were 
vanishing into the clouds. 

When his brother returned, Bokwewa related all 
to him exactly as it had happened. 

The face of Kwasynd changed and was dark as the 
night. For several days he would not taste food. 
Sometimes he would fall to weeping for a long time, 
and now for the first time seemed to realise how gen- 
tle and beautiful had been the ways of her who was 
lost. At last he said that he would go in search of 
her. 

Bokwewa tried to dissuade him from it ; but he would 
not be turned aside from his purpose. 

"Since you are resolved," said Bokwewa, "listen 
to my advice. You will have to go South. It is a 
long distance to the present abiding-place of your 
wife, and there are so many charms and temptations 
by the way that I fear you will be led astray and for- 
get your errand. The people whom you will see in 
the country through which you have to pass, do noth- 
ing but amuse themselves. They are very idle, gay 
and effeminate, and I fear that they will lead you 
astray. Your path is beset with dangers. I will men- 
tion two things which you must be especially on your 
guard against. 

"In the course of your journey you will come to a 
large grape-vine lying across your path. You must 
not even taste its fruit, for it is poisonous. Step over 

280 



BOKWEWA, THE HUMPBACK 

it. It is a snake. You will next come to something 
that looks like bear's fat, of which you are so fond. 
Touch it not, or you will be overcome by the soft hab- 
its of the idle people. It is frog's eggs. These are 
snares laid by the way for you." 

Kwasynd promised that he would observe the ad- 
vice, and bidding his brother farewell, he set out. 
After traveling a long time he came to the enchanted 
grape-vine. It looked so tempting, with its swelling 
purple clusters, that he forgot his brother's warning 
and tried the fruit. Then he went on till he came to 
the frog's eggs. They so much resembled delicious 
bear's fat that Kwasynd tasted them. He still went 
on. 

At length he came to a wide plain. As he emerged 
from the forest the sun was falling in the west, and 
cast its scarlet and golden shades far over the country. 
The air was perfectly calm, and the whole prospect had 
the air of an enchanted land. Fruits and flowers and 
delicate blossoms lured the eye and delighted the 
senses. 

At a distance he beheld a large village, swarming 
with people, and as he drew near he discovered women 
beating corn in silver mortars. 

When they saw Kwasynd approaching, they cried 
out: 

"Bokwewa's brother has come to see us." 

Throngs of men and women in bright apparel hur- 
ried out to meet him. 

281 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

Having already yielded to temptation by the way, 
lie was soon overcome by their fair looks and soft 
speeches; and it was not long afterward that he was 
seen beating corn with the women, having entirely 
abandoned all further quest for his lost wife. 

Meantime, Bokwewa, alone in the lodge, waited pa- 
tiently his brother's return. After the lapse of sev- 
eral years he set out in search of him, and he arrived 
in safety among the soft and idle people of the South. 
He had met the same allurements by the way, and the 
people gathered around him on his coming just as they 
had around his brother Kwasynd; but Bokwewa was 
proof against their flattery. He only grieved in his 
heart that any should yield. 

He shed tears of pity to see that his brother had 
laid aside the arms of a hunter, and that he was beat- 
ing corn with the women, indifferent to the fate and 
the fortune of his lost wife. 

Bokwewa ascertained that she had passed on to a 
country beyond. 

After deliberating for a time and spending several 
days in a severe fast, he set out in the direction in 
which she had gone. 

It was far off, but Bokwewa had a stout heart ; and 
strong in the faith that he was now on the broad path 
toward the happy land, he pressed forward. For 
many days he traveled without encountering anything 
unusual. Then plains of vast extent, rich in waving 
grass, began to pass before his eyes. He saw many 

282 



BOKWEWA, THE HUMPBACK 

beautiful groves and heard the songs of countless 
birds. 

At length he began to fail in strength for lack of 
food ; when he suddenly reached a high ground. From 
this he caught the first glimpse of the other land. But 
it appeared to be still far off, and all the country be- 
tween, partly veiled in silvery mists, glittered with 
lakes and streams of water. As he pressed on, Bok- 
wewa came in sight of innumerable herds of stately 
deer, moose, and other animals which walked near 
his path, and they appeared to have no fear of man. 

And now again as he wound about in his course, 
and faced the north once more, he beheld coming to- 
ward him an immense number of men, women, and 
children, pressing forward in the direction of the shin- 
ing land. 

In this vast throng Bokwewa beheld persons of 
every age, from the little infant, the sweet and lovely 
penaisee, or younger son, to the feeble, gray old man, 
stooping under the burden of his years. 

All whom Bokwewa met, of every name and degree, 
were heavily laden with pipes, weapons, bows, arrows, 
kettles and other wares and implements. 

One man stopped him and complained of the weary 
load he was carrying. Another offered him a kettle ; 
another his bow and arrows ; but he declined all, and, 
free of foot, hastened on. 

And now he met women who were carrying their 
basket-work and painted paddles, and little boys with 

283 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

their embellished war-clubs and bows and arrows, the 
gifts of their friends. 

With this mighty throng, Bokwewa was borne along 
for two days and nights, when he arrived at a coun- 
try so still and shining, and so beautiful in its woods 
and groves and plains, that he knew it was here that 
he should find the lost spirit-wife. 

He had scarcely entered this fair country, with a 
sense of home and the return to things familiar strong 
upon him, when there appeared before him the lost 
spirit-wife herself, who, taking him by the hand, gave 
him welcome, saying: 

"My brother, I am glad to see you. Welcome! wel- 
come ! You are now in your native land ! Here you 
shall dwell in peace and plenty all your days." 

Then Bokwewa, finding himself no longer misshapen 
and awkward, but strong and straight, followed her 
into the lodge. 




284 



XXIII 
THE LITTLE BOY-MAN 

ABOY remarkable for the smallness of his stature 
lived alone with his sister in a little lodge on a 
lake shore. Around their habitation were scattered 
many large rocks, and it had a very wild and out-of- 
the-way look. 

The boy grew no larger as he advanced in years, 
and yet, small as he was, he had a big spirit of his 
own and loved dearly to play the master in the lodge. 
One day in winter he told his sister to make him a 
ball to play with, as he meant to have some sport 
along the shore on the clear ice. When she handed 
him the ball, his sister cautioned him not to go too 
far. 

He laughed at her and posted off in high glee, throw- 
ing his ball before him and running after it at full 
speed; and he went as fast as his ball. At last the 
ball flew to a great distance, and he after it. When 
he had run forward for some time, he saw what seemed 
four dark spots upon the ice straight before him. 

When he came up to the shore he was surprised to 
see four large, tall men lying on the ice, spearing fish. 
They were four brothers, who looked exactly alike. 

285 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

As the little boy-man approached them, the nearest 
looked up, and in his turn was surprised to see such 
a tiny being. Turning to his brothers, he said : 

"Tia! look! see what a little fellow is here." 

The three others thereupon looked up, too, and see- 
ing these four faces, as alike as if they had been one, 
the little spirit or boy-man said to himself: 

"Four in one! What a time they must have in 
choosing their hunting-shirts!" 

After they had all stared for a moment at the boy, 
they covered their heads, intent in searching for fish. 
The boy thought to himself: 

"These four-faces fancy that I am to be put off 
without notice because I am so little and they are so 
broad and long. They shall find out. I may find a 
way to teach them that I am not to be treated so 
lightly." 

After the men were covered up, the boy-man, looking 
sharply about, saw that among them they had caught 
one large trout, which was lying just by their side. 
Stealing along, he slyly seized it, and placing his fin- 
gers in the gills and tossing his ball before him, he ran 
off at full speed. 

They heard the pattering of his little steps upon 
the ice, and when the four looked up all together, they 
saw their fine trout sliding away at a great rate, as if 
of itself, the boy being so small that he could not be 
distinguished from the fish. 

286 



THE LITTLE BOY-MAN 

"See!" they cried out, "our fish is running away 
on the dry land ! ' ' 

When they stood up they could just see, over the 
fish's head, that it was the boy-man who was carrying 
it off. 

The little spirit reached the lodge, and having left 
the trout at the door, he told his sister to go out and 
bring in the fish he had brought home. 

She exclaimed, "Where could you have got it? I 
hope you have not stolen it. ' 7 

"Oh," he replied, "I found it on the ice. It was 
caught in our lake. Have we no right to a little lake 
of our own? I shall claim all the fish that come out 
of its waters." 

"How," the sister asked again, "could you have 
got it there?" 

"No matter," said the boy; "go and cook it." 

It was as much as the girl could do to drag the 
great trout within doors. Then she cooked it, and its 
flavor was so delicious that she asked no more ques- 
tions as to how he had come by it. 

The next morning the little spirit or boy-man set 
off as he had the day before. 

He made all sorts of sport with his ball as he frol- 
icked along — high over his head he would toss it; 
straight up into the air; then far before him; and 
again, in mere merriment of spirit, he would send it 
bounding back, as if he had plenty of speed and enough 

287 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

to spare in running back after it. And the ball leaped 
and bounced about and glided through the air as if it 
were a live thing, enjoying the sport as much as the 
boy-man himself. 

When he came within hail of the four large men, 
who were fishing there every day, he cast his ball 
with such force that it rolled into the ice-hole about 
which they were busy. The boy, standing on the shore 
of the lake, called out : 

" Four-in-one, pray hand me my ball." 

"No, indeed," they answered, setting up a grim 
laugh which curdled their four dark faces all at once, 
"we will not"; and with their fishing-spears they 
thrust the ball under the ice. 

"Good!" said the boy-man, "we shall see." 

Saying which he rushed upon the four brothers and 
thrust them at one push into the water. His ball 
bounded back to the surface, and, picking it up, he 
ran off, tossing it before him in his own sportive way. 
Outstripping it in speed, he soon reached home and 
remained within till the next morning. 

The four brothers, rising up from the water at the 
same time, dripping and wroth, roared out in one 
voice a terrible threat of vengeance, which they prom- 
ised to execute the next day. They knew the boy's 
speed, and that they could by no means overtake him. 

Betimes in the morning, the four brothers were stir- 
ring in their lodge and getting ready to look after their 
revenge. 

288 



THE LITTLE BOY-MAN 

Their old mother, who lived with them, begged them 
not to go. 

"Better," said she, "now that your clothes are dry, 
to think no more of the ducking, than to go and all 
four of you get your heads broken, as you surely will ; 
for that boy is a monedo or he could not perform such 
feats as he does." 

Her sons, however, paid no heed to this wise advice. 
Eaising a great war-cry, which frightened the birds 
overhead nearly out of their feathers, they started for 
the boy's lodge among the rocks. 

The little spirit or boy-man heard them roaring forth 
their threats as they approached, but he did not ap- 
pear to be disquieted in the least. His sister as yet 
had heard nothing ; after a while she thought she could 
distinguish the noise of snowshoes on the snow, at a 
distance, but rapidly advancing. She looked out, and 
seeing the four large men coming straight to their 
lodge she was in great fear. Eunning in, she ex- 
claimed : 

"He is coming, four times as strong as ever!" for 
she supposed that the one man whom her brother had 
offended had become so angry as to make four of him- 
self in order to wreak his vengeance. 

The boy-man said, "Why do you mind them? Give 
me something to eat." 

"How can you think of eating at such a time?" she 
replied. 

"Do as I request you, and be quick." 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

She then gave the little spirit his dish, and he com- 
menced eating. 

Just then the brothers came to the door. 

' ' See ! ' ' cried the sister, l ' the man with four heads ! ' ' 

The brothers were about to lift the curtain at the 
door, when the boy-man turned his dish upside down, 
and immediately the door was closed with a stone. 
The four brothers set to work upon this and ham- 
mered with their clubs with great fury, until at length 
they succeeded in making a slight opening. One of 
the brothers presented his face at this little window 
and rolled his eye about at the boy-man in a very 
threatening way. 

The little spirit, who, when he had closed the door, 
had returned to his meal and gone on quietly eating, 
took up his bow and arrow which lay by his side, and 
let fly the shaft. It struck the man in the head, and 
he fell back. The boy-man merely called out, "Num- 
ber one," as he fell, and went on with his meal. 

In a moment a second face, just like the first, pre- 
sented itself ; and as he raised his bow, his sister said 
to him: 

"What is the use? You have killed that man al- 
ready." 

Little spirit fired his arrow — the man fell — he 
called out, "Number two," and continued his meal. 

The two others of the four brothers were despatched 
in the same quiet way and counted off as "Number 
three" and "Number four." 

290 



THE LITTLE BOY-MAN 

After they were all well disposed of in this way, 
the boy-man directed his sister to go out and see them. 
She presently ran back, saying: 

" There are four of them." 

"Of course," the boy-man answered, "and there al- 
ways shall be four of them." 

Going out himself, the boy-man raised the brothers 
to their feet, and giving each a push, one with his face 
to the East, another to the West, a third to the South, 
and the last to the North, he sent them off to wander 
about the earth; and whenever you see four men just 
alike, they are the four brothers whom the little spirit 
or boy-man despatched upon their travels. 

But this was not the last display of the boy-man's 
power. 

When spring came on, and the lake began to sparkle 
in the morning sun, the boy-man said to his sister: 

"Make me a new set of arrows and a bow." 

Although he provided for their support, the little 
spirit never performed household or hard work of any 
kind, and his sister obeyed. 

When she had made the weapons, which, though 
they were very small, were beautifully wrought and 
of the best stuff the field and wood could furnish, she 
again cautioned him not to shoot into the lake. 

"She thinks," said the boy-man to himself, "I can 
see no farther into the water than she. My sister 
shall learn better." 

Begardless of her warnings, he on purpose dis- 

291 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

charged a shaft into the lake and waded out into the 
water till he got to its depth. Then he paddled abont 
for his arrow, so as to call the attention of his sister, 
as if to show that he hardily braved her advice. 

She hurried to the shore, calling on him to return; 
but instead of heeding her, he cried out : 

"You of the red fins, come and swallow me!" 

Although his sister did not clearly understand whom 
her brother was addressing, she too called out: 

"Don't mind the foolish boy!" 

The boy-man's order seemed to be best attended 
to, for immediately a monstrous fish came and swal- 
lowed him. Before disappearing entirely, catching a 
glimpse of his sister standing in despair upon the 
shore, the boy-man hallooed out to her : 

' ' Me-zush-ke-zin-ance ! ' ' 

She wondered what he meant. At last it occurred 
to her that it must be an old moccasin. She accord- 
ingly ran to the lodge, brought a moccasin, tied it to 
a string attached to a tree, and quickly cast it into the 
water. 

The great fish said to the boy-man under water : 

"What is that floating?" 

To which the boy-man replied: 

"Go, take hold of it, swallow it as fast as you can; 
it is a great delicacy." 

The fish darted toward the old shoe and swallowed 
it, making of it a mere mouthful. 

The boy-man laughed to himself but said nothing, 

292 



THE LITTLE BOY-MAN 

till the fish was fairly caught; when he took hold of 
the line and began to pull himself ashore in his fish- 
carriage. 

The sister, who was watching all this time, opened 
wide her eyes as the huge fish came up and up upon 
the shore; and she opened them still more when the 
fish seemed to speak, and she heard from within a 
yoice, saying, "Make haste and release me from this 
nasty place." 

It was her brother's voice, which she was accus- 
tomed to obey; and she made haste with her knife to 
open a door in the side of the fish, from which the 
boy-man presently leaped forth. He lost no time in 
ordering her to cut up the fish and dry it ; telling her 
that their spring supply of meat was now provided. 

The sister now began to believe that her brother 
was an extraordinary boy ; yet she was not altogether 
satisfied in her mind that he was greater than the rest 
of the world. 

They sat one evening in the lodge, musing with each 
other in the dark, by the light of each other's eyes, 
when the sister said: 

"My brother, it is strange that you, who can do so 
much, are no wiser than the Ko-ko, who gets all his 
light from the moon; which shines or not, as it 
pleases." 

"And is not that light enough?" asked the little 
spirit. 

"Quite enough," the sister replied. "If it would 

293 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

"but come within the lodge and not sojourn out in the 
tree-tops and among the clouds." 

"We will have a light of our own, sister," said the 
boy-man; and, casting himself upon a mat by the door, 
he commenced singing: 

Fire-fly, fire-fly, bright little thing, 
Light me to bed and my song I will sing; 
Give me your light, as you fly o'er my head, 
That I may merrily go to my bed. 

Give me your light o'er the grass as you creep, 
That I may joyfully go to my sleep; 
Come, little fire-fly, come little beast, 
Come ! and I'll make you to-morrow a feast. 

Come, little candle, that flies as I sing, 
Bright little fairy-bug, night's little king; 
Come and I'll dream, as you guide me along; 
Come and I'll pay you, my bug, with a song. 

As the boy-man chanted this call, the fire-flies came 
into the lodge, first one by one, then in couples, till at 
last, swarming in little armies, they lighted the lodge 
with a thousand sparkling lamps, just as the stars 
were lighting the mighty hollow of the sky without. 

The faces of the sister and brother shone upon each 
other from their opposite sides of the lodge with a 
kindly gleam of mutual trustfulness; and never more 
from that hour did a doubt of each other darken their 
little household. 



294 



XXIV 
WUNZH, THE FATHER OF INDIAN CORN 

IN time past — we cannot tell exactly how many, 
many years ago — a poor Indian was living with his 
wife and children in a beautiful part of the country. 
He was not only poor, but he had the misfortune to 
be inexpert in procuring food for his family, and his 
children were all too young to give him any assistance. 

Although of a lowly condition and straitened in his 
circumstances, he was a man of kind and contented dis- 
position. He was always thankful to the Great Spirit 
for everything he received. He even stood in the door 
of his lodge to bless the birds that flew past in the 
summer evenings ; although, if he had been of a com- 
plaining temper, he might have repined that they were 
not rather spread upon the table for his evening meal. 

The same gracious and sweet disposition was in- 
herited by his eldest son, who had now arrived at the 
proper age to undertake the ceremony of the fast to 
learn what kind of a spirit would be his guide and 
guardian through life. 

Wunzh, for this was his name, had been an obedient 
boy from his infancy — pensive, thoughtful, and gentle 
— so that he was beloved by the whole family. 

As soon as the first buds of spring appeared and the 

295 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

delicious fragrance of the young year began to sweeten 
the air, his father, with the help of his younger broth- 
ers, built for Wunzh the customary little lodge at a 
retired spot some distance from their own, where he 
would not be disturbed during the solemn rite. 

,To prepare himself, Wunzh sought to clear his heart 
of every evil thought and to think of nothiug that was 
not good, and beautiful, and kindly. 

That he might store his mind with pleasant ideas 
for his dreams, for the first few days he amused him- 
self by walking in the woods and over the mountains, 
examining the early plants and flowers. 

As he rambled far and wide through the wild coun- 
try, he felt a strong desire to know how the plants 
and herbs and berries grew, without any aid from man, 
and why it was tjiat some kinds were good to eat, and 
that others were possessed of medicinal or poisonous 
power. 

After he had become too languid from fasting to 
walk about, and confined himself strictly to the lodge, 
he recalled these thoughts. Turning them in his mind, 
he wished he could dream of something that would 
prove a benefit to his father and family, and to all 
others of his fellow-creatures. 

''True," thought Wunzh, "the Great Spirit made 
all things, and it is to him that we owe our lives. 
Could he not make it easier for us to get our food 
than by hunting animals and taking fish? I must try 
to find this out in my visions." 

206 



WUNZH, FATHER OF INDIAN CORN 

On the third day Vfunzh became weak and faint, 
and lay flat in a kind of stupor. Suddenly he fancied 
that a bright light came in at the lodge door, and ere 
he was aware, he saw a handsome young man, with 
a complexion of the softest and purest white, coming 
down from the sky and advancing toward him. 

The beautiful stranger was richly and gaily dressed, 
having on a great many garments of green and yellow 
colors, but differing in their deeper or lighter shades. 
He had a plume of waving feathers on his head, and all 
his motions were graceful, reminding Wunzh of the 
deep green of the summer grass, the clear amber of 
the summer sky, and the gentle blowing of the sum- 
mer wind. As Wunzh gazed at his visitor, he paused 
on a little mound of earth just before the door of the 
lodge. 

"I am sent to you, my friend," said this celestial 
visitor, in a voice most soft and musical to listen to, 
"I am sent to you by that Great Spirit who made all 
things in the sky and on the earth. He has seen and 
knows your motives in fasting. He sees that it is 
from a kind and benevolent wish to do good to your 
people and to procure a benefit for them ; and that you 
do not seek for strength in war, or the praise of the 
men of the bloody hand. So I am sent to instruct you 
and to show you how you can do your kindred good. ' ' 

He then told Wunzh to arise and to prepare to wres- 
tle with him, as it was only by this means that he 
could hope to succeed in his desires. 

297 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

Wunzh knew how weak he was from fasting, but 
the voice of the stranger was cheery and put such a 
courage in his heart, that he promptly sprang up, de- 
termined to die rather than fail. 

He began the trial, and after a long-sustained strug- 
gle, was almost overpowered, when the beautiful 
stranger said: 

"My friend, it is enough for once; I will come again 
to try you," and smiling on him, he returned through 
the air in the same direction in which he had come. 

The next day, although Wunzh saw how sweetly the 
wild-flowers bloomed upon the slopes and the birds 
warbled from the woodland, he longed to see the ce- 
lestial visitor and to hear his voice. 

To his great joy he reappeared at the same hour, 
toward the going down of the sun, and re-challenged 
Wunzh to a trial of strength. 

The brave Wunzh felt that his strength of body 
was even less than on the day before, but the cour- 
age of his mind seemed to grow. Observing this, and 
how Wunzh put his whole heart into the struggle, the 
stranger again spoke to him in the words he used be- 
fore, adding: 

"To-morrow will be your last trial. Be strong, my 
friend, for this is the only way in which you can over- 
come me and obtain the boon you seek." 

The light which shone after him as he left Wunzh 
was brighter than before. 

On the third day he came again and renewed the 

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WUNZH, FATHER OF INDIAN CORN 

struggle. Very faint in body was poor Wunzh, but 
he was stronger at heart than ever, and determined 
to prevail now or perish. He put forth his utmost 
powers, and after a contest more severe than either 
of the others, the stranger ceased his efforts and de- 
clared himself conquered. 

For the first time he entered Wunzh 's little fasting- 
lodge, and sitting down beside the youth, he began to 
deliver his instructions to him and to inform him in 
what manner he should proceed to take advantage of 
his victory. 

"You have won your desire of the Great Spirit," 
said the beautiful stranger. "You have wrestled man- 
fully. To-morrow will be the seventh day of your 
fasting. Your father will give you food to strengthen 
you, and as it is the last day of trial you will prevail. 
I know this, and now tell you what you must do to 
benefit your family and your people. To-morrow," 
he repeated, "I shall meet you and wrestle with you 
for the last time. As soon as you have prevailed 
against me, you will strip off my garments and throw 
me down, clean the earth of roots and weeds, make it 
soft, and bury me in the spot. When you have done 
this, leave my body in the earth and do not disturb it, 
but come at times to visit the place, to see whether I 
have come to life, and above all be careful never to 
let the grass or weeds grow upon my grave. Once a 
month cover me with fresh earth. If you follow these 
my instructions you will accomplish your object of 

299 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

doing good to your fellow-creatures by teaching them 
the knowledge I now teach you." 

He then shook Wunzh by the hand and disappeared, 
but he was gone so soon that Wunzh could not tell 
what direction he took. 

In the morning, Wunzh 's father came to his lodge 
with some slight refreshments, saying: 

"My son, you have fasted long enough. If the 
Great Spirit will favor you, he will do it now. It is 
seven days since you have tasted food, and you must 
not sacrifice your life. The Master of Life does not 
require that." 

"My father," replied Wunzh, "wait till the sun goes 
down. I have a particular reason for extending my 
fast to that hour." 

"Very well," said the old man, "I shall wait till 
the hour arrives, and you shall be inclined to eat." 

At his usual hour of appearing, the beautiful sky- 
visitor returned, and the trial of strength was renewed. 
Although he had not availed himself of his father's 
offer of food, Wunzh felt that new strength had been 
given him. His heart was mighty within him to 
achieve some great purpose. Within the bosom of the 
brave Wunzh courage was like the eagle that spreads 
his wings within the tree-top for a great flight. 

He grasped his challenger with supernatural 
strength, threw him down, and, mindful of his instruc- 
tions, tore away his beautiful garments and plume. 
Finding him dead, he immediately buried him on the 

300 



WUNZH, FATHER OF INDIAN CORN 

spot, using all the precautions he had been told of, 
and very confident was Wunzh, all the time, that his 
friend would again come to life. 

"Wunzh now returned to his father's lodge, where 
he was warmly welcomed. For as it had been ap- 
pointed to him during the days of his fasting to walk 
apart, he had not been permitted to see any human 
face save that of his father, the representative to the 
little household upon earth of the great Father of all 
people. 

■ .Wunzh partook sparingly of the meal that had been 
prepared for him, and once more mingled in the cares 
and sports of the family. But he never for a moment 
forgot the grave of his friend. He carefully visited 
it throughout the spring, weeded out the grass, and 
kept the ground in a soft and pliant state ; and some- 
times, when the brave Wunzh thought of his friend 
that was gone from his sight, he dropped a tear upon 
the earth where he lay. 

Watching and tending and moistening the earth with 
his tears, it was not long before Wunzh saw the tops 
of green plumes coming through the ground; and the 
more faithful he was in obeying his instructions in 
keeping the ground in order and in cherishing the mem- 
ory of his friend, the faster they grew. He was, how- 
ever, careful to conceal all these things from his fa- 
ther. 

Days and weeks had passed in this way; the sum- 
mer was drawing toward a close, when one day Wunzh 

301 



THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK 

invited his father to follow hiui to the quiet and lone- 
some spot of his former fast. 

The little fasting-lodge had been removed and the 
weeds kept from growing on the circle where it had 
stood; but in its place rose a tall and graceful plant, 
surmounted with nodding plumes, stately leaves, and 
golden clusters. There was in its aspect and bearing 
the deep green of the summer grass, the clear amber 
of the summer sky, and the gentle blowing of the sum- 
mer wind. 

"It is my friend!" shouted Wunzh, "it is the friend 
of all mankind. It is Mondawmin: it is our Indian 
Corn! We need no longer rely on hunting alone, for 
as long as this gift is cherished and taken care of, the 
ground itself will give us a living." 

He then pulled an ear. 

"See, my father," said he, "this is what I fasted 
for. The Great Spirit has listened to my voice and 
sent us something new. Henceforth our people will 
not alone depend upon the chase or upon the waters." 

Wunzh then communicated to his father the instruc- 
tions given to him by the stranger. He told him that 
the broad husks must be torn away, as he had pulled 
off the stranger's garments in his wrestling. Then he 
showed him how the ear must be held before the fire 
till the outer skin becomes brown, while all the milk 
is retained in the grain. 

The whole family, in high spirits and deeply grate- 

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WUNZH, FATHER OF INDIAN COHN 

ful, assisted in a feast on the newly grown ears of 
corn. 

So came that mighty blessing into the world, and 
we owe all of those beautiful fields of healthful grain 
to the dream of the brave boy Wunzh, 



THE END 



303 



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